So you ask where I’ve been and all I’ve got for you is a dead uncle.

No, really. My uncle died. Well, he was my mom’s uncle, so that technically makes him my great uncle, but I hate saying ‘great-uncle’ because what if that uncle wasn’t so great and because I called him my great-uncle I just made him out to be some awesome uncle who, like, took me for ice cream and let me drive his Camaro when I was 14 and totally didn’t tell my parents when he caught me smoking outside the movie theater in high school when he actually was kind of a dick? Then I’d feel like an asshole because I told you my uncle was great when he actually wasn’t and then you’d feel like an idiot for being all, “Sorry your great uncle is dead” and I was like, “Eh, it’s alright, he was kind of a dick anyway.”?

No? Just me? Thought so. Anyway. My mom’s Uncle Bob died yesterday, and he was totally awesome and it really sucks that he’s gone. He was a wonderful guy – always happy, with a kind word and a smile for everyone he met. I don’t remember a time that I went to their house in the summer that he wasn’t working in the yard, he loved it so. I’ll miss him a lot, but he’s not sick or hurting now, and that’ s the most important thing. Rest now, Uncle Bob. I’ll never forget you.