Until Then Uncle
I had an uncle whose name was James and I loved him. Uncle James and I did not share the same bloodline
though, he was my father's best friend. They met at school when my dad was about seven years old and
their friendship lasted for many, many years.
When I was growing up Uncle James did not visit our home very often, in fact, he probably visited us twice
or three times a year. Therefore when he visited, it was always an occasion for my parents to celebrate. So
on these occasions the "special occasion" dinnerware were brought out and my mom's favorite dishes were
cooked and in addition to that, the stereo was turned up a little louder than usual.
Uncle James was always kind to me and whenever he visited, he always came with a present. A present that
somehow he always knew that I wanted.
Ten years ago as I was approaching my tenth birthday there was no signs that my parents were going to
give me my customary birthday party. That did not matter to me though, because financially, it had been a
trying several months and I was just happy that the Lord was providing us with food.
Then, to my surprise Uncle James visited us the day before my birthday and presented me with a birthday
present and a birthday card. He spent only about five minutes because he was on his way to a wedding and
even though I was disappointed, I was overjoyed to see him.
The present that he brought me was a train set and to my surprise inside the card contained some money
that brought back a smile to my mother's face. However, several years later I found out that my father would
not take or borrow any money from Uncle James, so Uncle James decided to give me the money instead. The
only thing that I saw was that it was an answer to my prayers. Therefore I instantly give the money to my
mom and from that point on our financial situation has progressively increased.
I still didn’t have a birthday party that year, nevertheless that was one of the happiest birthdays that I have
ever had.
However, about two years after that time, Uncle James and his family moved away to another country. This
however did not stunt my father's and his relationship. They talk on the telephone occasionally and once in a
while Uncle James would take the eighteen- hour flight back to his homeland.
As I continue to grow and was finally able to get a job along with a paycheck that I was happy with, my Mom
called me at my apartment with the sad news. Uncle James had passed away and his funeral was taking
place in two days.
My Dad took the news really hard and even harder because he knew that he was not going to be able to
travel for the funeral. You see, a week ago he was in a car accident and was presently bedridden.
My boss was not too please about me asking for time off the following morning, but he was an understanding
boss and I was given a week off. So I booked the one stop, eighteen-hour afternoon flight for the day before
the funeral which was scheduled to begin at eleven in the morning.
"Dear Lord," I prayed, "please take me to this funeral."
When I arrived at the airport the flight was scheduled to leave on time, but as I sat in the departure lounge
about one hour before the plane was scheduled to be boarded, it was delayed. It was going to depart about
three hours after the scheduled time.
When I heard those words, because of what it implied, tears stung my eyes and begun to role down my
cheeks. I wept for Uncle James, I wept for my Dad and I wept for myself. I was not going to reach there in
time to attend the funeral.
"I’m sorry Uncle." I whispered.
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