Uncle Fred. Just saying his name brings a smile. Crotchety old guy, loud booming voice. Heart of gold. He grew up with my dad; his cousin. He called Dad brother though. "Not 'big' brother, older brother" (lifting himself tall, patting his round tummy).
He lives in Idaho. When he heard about Dad's accident, he climbed into his ancient motorhome and started driving. Claimed he had to visit his family in Washington. So he did, then drove all morning to get here.
He still had another 2 hour drive to see his 'older' brother, and I tried to get him to stop for a while to rest. His loud booming voice muted. No. I have to see him. Now. A tear; another. Now I had a tear; another. We mopped our eyes, and smiled. I gave him the address. He tottered back to his motorhome, and was gone.
He is now happily visiting his 'older brother'. The Best Medicine in the World. For both of them.
