I’m so sorry about your uncle and about he many challenges your family is facing. We’re all walking the labyrinth, and it takes special wisdom to understand that sometimes we need to take a detour or another path to get to the end. I wish peace to your uncle, and to you.
I'm moved by the story of your uncle's life and your lovely and loving recognition of his determination, his enthusiasm, his zeal for life. It induced in me a wave of shame for some self-pity I've indulged in myself recently. How preposterous and shallow is so much of what passes for suffering.
Maybe your Uncle Randy is aware of you by his side now or maybe he isn't, but he's lived a life of purpose and connection, something that eludes many of even the most healthy among us. It's something to be proud of and grateful for. Thank you for using your beautiful writing to tell us about his life and also about your grandparents' loving dedication to their son.
I'm so sorry about your uncle. He sounds like an absolutely incredible man, and I am so in awe of your grandparents, making options where there were none. What an inspiring story of life.
"I remember how it feels when you know someone is slipping away: it feels like walking the labyrinth." That's really well put, and maybe even could have more than one interpretation. I took it to mean it's an unpredictable path with many fluctuations and uncertainties, the only certainty being that it will eventually reach an end - but perhaps you were referring more to your own relationship to all this and how the emotional processing and closure doesn't necessarily line up with the objective timeframe. Anyway, I'm very sorry your uncle is slipping away. But very glad he was able to lead a full life given all he had to deal with.
A story like yours (along with others' stories) puts so much more flesh on some of those more abstract and/or contentious debates about the meaning and value of disability, which recently came up on a different blog.
tears and peace.
I’m so sorry about your uncle and about he many challenges your family is facing. We’re all walking the labyrinth, and it takes special wisdom to understand that sometimes we need to take a detour or another path to get to the end. I wish peace to your uncle, and to you.
I'm moved by the story of your uncle's life and your lovely and loving recognition of his determination, his enthusiasm, his zeal for life. It induced in me a wave of shame for some self-pity I've indulged in myself recently. How preposterous and shallow is so much of what passes for suffering.
Maybe your Uncle Randy is aware of you by his side now or maybe he isn't, but he's lived a life of purpose and connection, something that eludes many of even the most healthy among us. It's something to be proud of and grateful for. Thank you for using your beautiful writing to tell us about his life and also about your grandparents' loving dedication to their son.
I'm so sorry about your uncle. He sounds like an absolutely incredible man, and I am so in awe of your grandparents, making options where there were none. What an inspiring story of life.
I’m sorry about your uncle’s failing health. I loved the story of him rolling to the neighbors!!!
"I remember how it feels when you know someone is slipping away: it feels like walking the labyrinth." That's really well put, and maybe even could have more than one interpretation. I took it to mean it's an unpredictable path with many fluctuations and uncertainties, the only certainty being that it will eventually reach an end - but perhaps you were referring more to your own relationship to all this and how the emotional processing and closure doesn't necessarily line up with the objective timeframe. Anyway, I'm very sorry your uncle is slipping away. But very glad he was able to lead a full life given all he had to deal with.
A story like yours (along with others' stories) puts so much more flesh on some of those more abstract and/or contentious debates about the meaning and value of disability, which recently came up on a different blog.