The weather the Philadelphia region is pretty lousy at the moment. However, instead of staying safely tucked in at home, Scott and I drove to Harrisburg earlier today (moving slowly and deliberately over wet and sometimes icy roads). I’m doing a handful of canning demos at the Pennsylvania Farm Show tomorrow and Tuesday in conjunction with Fillmore Container and Scott came with me to help haul and sell books. Neither of us have ever been to the Farm Show, so we’re curious to see what we’re in for tomorrow morning.
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Back in October, my Uncle Wallace died unexpectedly of a massive heart attack. He was my mom’s older brother and he is greatly missed. I’ve not been able to participate in any of the memorial events for him, as they’ve been all held around his home in Hawaii. However, I had a dream last night that very much felt like a gift of a goodbye.
In it, I was standing at a concert or gathering of some kind, talking to a my friend Harfijah (who I don’t think I’ve seen since her wedding 9 1/2 years ago). As we stood there talking, I looked up and Uncle Wallace was standing off to the right, smiling widely at me.
I stopped the conversation by saying, “Excuse me, but my Uncle Wallace is standing over there. He died recently, so I don’t want to miss an opportunity to see him. I’ll be right back.”
I walked over, he opened his arms, and we had a long, loving hug. There was some good, joy-filled eye contact, but no words. Then it was over and he was gone.
There was nothing weird about it. It felt totally normal to see him, though in the dream, I knew the opportunity was fleeting.
It was such a rare and lovely chance to get to say farewell like that.