My Great Uncle died a few weeks ago. He was my grandfather’s brother, but we always just called him uncle. He lived not too far from here, so we saw him every now and again. The kid was a fan of his (and the cats he had at his house). We went to a memorial service for him, and for his wife who died a few years ago. We saw cousins we haven’t seen in years, talked about family.

The service was given mainly by the Anglican minister, but there was a Unitarian minister present as well and he stood to speak at one point. He called it a meditation. (This might be a thing, I don’t go to church so I don’t know).

He said that the universe takes, and the universe gives, but in its own time.

I’ve gone through hard stuff in my life – not as hard as others have faced, but hard on me nonetheless. Sitting there in this church I listened to the minister and thought of my uncle. He was always a happy-go-lucky person. Jovial seems like the perfect word for him.

Sitting there it popped into my head that while I have had hard times and things taken away by the universe, I have been given this wonderful gift. I have this family. This wonderful family.

I often call my daughter ‘Love’ and when I thought about this nickname I knew right away why it had come so naturally: She is love. She defines the emotion for me. She is everything I could have asked for, and on top of that I get this husband who tries to build me up every time I question myself. Believes everything good about me.




Both of these people walked right into my life and knocked me off my feet. Thanks universe.

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