This is an addendum to my previous blog :
It is 10:30 pm on a Friday night. I had cleaned out the refrigerator of old home cooked meals from last week when my son was home. One meal was meatloaf and scalloped potatoes; one of my favorites. The Corelle casserole dish I used to make the scalloped potatoes was one I was given as a present at my original wedding. It was a present from Uncle Doyle. I met the man exactly once in my whole life. He was my sister's uncle by marriage, so no real relation to me. But from that one meeting and the stories I had heard - I loved the man, and he gave me a present just because I was related to his niece-in-law. I didn't even get presents from REAL relatives at my original wedding. But HE came and gave me one - no reason, no invitation. I think he was just that nice. I smile even when I just think of his name. He is long gone, but his memory is not.
When my original marriage imploded, I got rid of everything – with the exception of the casserole dish from Uncle Doyle. I could not part with it. I loved this man I did not know. I don’t know why I am so attached to him. It just is one of those things you accept as a part of you.
So, I was washing the dish tonight thinking of Uncle Doyle. Wondering if I would be able to get to know him in heaven; wondering if my sister’s family even knew I had this attachment. Did it matter?
No, indeed it doesn't, because this is MY memory and I revel in it every time I use this dish.
Thank you Uncle Doyle. Love you! I can’t wait to get to know you sometime!