My dad's brother died a few weeks ago. Uncle Earl was the oldest of three boys; Dad is the youngest. My parents didn't learn of his death until a few days later when my sister saw something on facebook and quickly contacted my parents to see if they knew anything.
My dad was re-connected with his brothers after about 30 years of time and distance separated them as surely as differences in faith and values had. I first met my Uncle Earl (the first time I can remember) while visiting my parents about 12 years ago. It was surreal. To know that there was a man who was so similiar to my dad, talked like him, looked like him, shared childhood experiences with him. He was an engaging man and I enjoyed the few visits I had with him. More importantly, my dad enjoyed renewing his relationship with his brother over the last few years.
A few years ago all three brothers were gathered around a dining room table reminiscing about their childhood years, telling stories about cars, jobs, people, events that took place 50 years ago. I felt blessed to sit and listen even though I didn't know who they were talking about. Our extended family doesn't gather together very often and it was a unique, never-to-be-repeated evening of connections.
Watching my dad interact with his brothers, hearing and seeing the similiarities and the differences between them, reminded me that blood binds us to our sisters, brothers, parents, grandparents, even if we are separated from them by time, distance, or belief. We look like them, we sound like them, we may share personality traits (whether we want to admit it or not), we share a common beginning. We have a whole lifetime to either grow together or grow apart. Or both. I vote for growing closer together, at least as it applies to my own brothers, sisters, parents.
