Uncle Jack

I am ironically, a fan of irony but too much is no good.
We went to Florida to lose the blues, which we did. However, when we got home late Sun night (I left my purse on the plane, but got it back safely the next day) we learned that my 95 year old Aunt fell and broke her pelvis ( she's in rehab now) and two days later my 85 year old uncle fell and broke his neck. He died on Monday.
He was my mother's baby brother; she called him Jackie and that's who he was to all of us. He and Aunt Mollie and their kids, Shelly and Joel were our next-door neighbors and extended family for my entire childhood. In a very close family, we were in- your- face- close. After my Mom died last Feb, we got even closer. He was my link to her and I was his. When she died it was another huge loss for him - he had already buried a wife, a son and a sister..
The last time I saw him was Xmas day at Joel's and he looked terrible; shrunken and gray, like my Mom did when she got ill. Like my Mom, he constantly gave to others, he loved life and life loved him right back. His heart was a vast as his wit. If you met him once, you'd never forget him.
I called him before we left to make plans to get together so he could help me ID my Mom's unmarked family photos. I depended on him for lots of stuff.
He was my source for arcane facts, jokes, song lyrics, baseball talk (National league baseball, rare in Yankeeland), facts about Judaism and family history.
He would call for my opinion on politics and current events and the performance of the Mets, to tell stories and jokes, to ask for recipes and the answers to arcane questions. We shared the love of history, music, trivia, music, and puns. Although I seldom drink these days, we would always have a scotch when we got together, one shot, three ice cubes for him always.
We got him an expensive bottle of scotch as a Xmas gift, but he didn't open it. He said that he wanted to savor it at home, with Glenn Miller on CD. I thought it unusual the time, but now I wonder if he was saving it for his own shiva, the week when Jews mourn their dead. He was always the religious one in the family, more so as he got older. His faith meant a lot to him and he meant a lot to me, so even though I don't know the official way to do it, I will pray for him.
We, my entire family, will also laugh because the most important and fulfilling thing for Uncle Jackie was to make people laugh. He left us a brilliant legacy.
My niece Sarah wrote beautifully about him on her blog; click on her link on this page and see "Just remember that death is not the end"
My uncle would be very proud of what she wrote and he would be also be proud that I stole her photo.