My father is one of eleven siblings.  He is the baby and has had to watch many of his siblings pass away.  HIs brother, Uncle Lou has been very sick and passed away last night.  

He died in my fathers arms, surrounded by his daughter, a beloved companion, and a nephew.  The visual of the four of them surrounding him as he drifted off to meet Jesus brings me to tears. 

I will forever remember Uncle Lou with a cigarette in his mouth, a cup of coffee(with 10 spoonfuls of sugar) in his hand, and a gravely voice.  

When I was a little girl, Uncle Lou was a weekly fixture around our house, along with many of my Uncles.  Most of them were in the landscaping business and often times one of them would park their truck in front of our house, and then another would spot it and park his truck, and so on and so on.  They would all congregate on the side patio smoking cigarettes and sipping coffee.  I loved looking out the kitchen window seeing all of them chatting in their work clothes.  I would run out with the pot of coffee refilling their mugs.  Every single one of them, including Uncle Lou, would light up with a smile and make me feel like they were happy to see me.  They always sneaked a silver dollar or quarter in my hand as well.