Many childhood Christmases were spent at your home in the country. Aunty Cath and Uncle Kev’s place, you couldn’t get much more country than that! I get my love of the country from this side of the family. I look like my Mum but have my Dad’s country blood. We lived in the city so there was always a long drive on Christmas morning. As a child this sucked, all we wanted to do was to stay home and play with our new toys. As an adult I would give anything to go back in time and really cherish and take in every second of those childhood Christmases.
Walking into your home, actually, that’s one thing that stands out, we rarely went into the home. In the country you enter through the gate and eat outside. Cath was in the kitchen. Gran and Pop were there, Pop wearing one of those hats that comes in Bon Bons. Gran also in the kitchen. Our 2 cousins were there. The girl with the horse and the one that wanted to be a nurse. You were always there greeting us with a smile and a hug. That’s the one thing I remember most about those Christmases – the love, happiness and laughter.
After so many years though, Mum and Dad finally gave into us kids and we no longer spent Christmas in the country.
When I was in my early teens you lost your wife (my Dad’s sister) in a car accident. At the time, I guess I wasn’t old enough to understand the enormity or the impact that had on you and your girls. Now as an adult and solo parent I admire the strength and courage it must have taken to face the world alone without the woman you’d planned to spend the rest of your life with. It was just you and your girls.
Eventually, as so often happens with families, we lost touch.
Fast forward to July this year and you were sitting in my lounge room, looking just like the man I remember only slightly older. You aged well Uncle Kev.
Then came the message that I guess we all expect at some point from your daughter to say you passed away peacefully in your sleep after a short illness. It was kind of expected but still a shock at the same time.
Now it’s just Dad left of that generation, Dad left to carry on the memories. I try not to think about that too much.
Rest in Peace Uncle Kev, thank you for the wonderful childhood memories, I hope you are, tonight having a glass of wine, as I am, and reunited with Aunty Cath reminiscing about beautiful family Christmases x