Miranda Levi

Today my Uncle Philip D. Foy Junior, passed into the next life. I’ve had a bit of time to process his departure and if you’ve followed my posts, you’ll know it wasn’t a surprise. I was able to say goodbye and tell him how much he’s meant to me. I held his hand and read him some of my writing. I asked him to give my great grandma a hug and to play a little soccer with Chloe. As much as I’m at peace with his passing, it doesn’t make it easy. There’s this place in my heart that hurts, a little grandpa sized hole. The only man who’s been a grandfather in my life is now gone.

As I brush away tears, I know he’d want me to smile instead of crying. So I do. I took my own nephew and niece out today, for brunch. I told them how much I loved my uncle and how much he’s going to be missed. Then we went and painted some Christmas gifts and bought treats before we came back home.

You see, it’s the little things I remember the most. His laugh is the strongest. I can hear him laughing now, a chuckle really. I tell him a story and his eyes grow large, he says Oh in the way only Uncle Phil did and then he laughs. There isn’t a doubt in my mind, Uncle Phil would want everyone to celebrate his life instead of mourning it. Life is meant to be lived in the now, creating new memories, new adventures, instead of dwelling on the past. Remember the found moments and letting the sad ones go. I will not mourn December 30th from now until forever. Instead, I will think of Uncle Phil and my heart will warm. I’ll think of the advice he’s given me when no one else would. Of how fresh fruit is good any time of day, sushi makes a fantastic appetizer, and if you finish your dinner, a little dessert shared is always nice. I’ll remember that paying kindness forward, even in small ways, is something you do because it’s right, it might make someone smile, or make their day a bit easier. You don’t do it because you want recognition. The little things we do for others in this life will reach far. Uncle Phil, you’re kindness reached further than any of us truly knows.

I want to say more than these words for they feel small. But I’m also at a loss for the right ones.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

Thank you for being in my life and thank you for the things I can not voice. You’re guiding us all now, with more wisdom than the rest of us combined. Thanks for keeping watch.

Until we meet again.