A couple of weeks ago I left the office around 5:30. I'm walking out to my truck...it's a beautiful day. Leaves were gently falling. And they were still the beautiful colors of fall that you enjoy: golds, reds, yellows, a little green...a little burgundy. And I was enjoying the sound and smell of autumn while checking my voicemail.
I hear a message from Aunt Chris: she has a pair of boots and wonders if George might be interested in them. I call her back and Uncle Harvey answers.
"Hi Uncle Harvey, it's Margie!" I say. We chat for a moment about the boots, and talk about when we can hook up next. He says Rick and Kevin are supposed to be out here this weekend so they won't be at church. So maybe we can hook up next weekend....
But after the call ends, it occurs to me: everyone should have an Uncle Harvey.
I mean, Uncle Harvey and I aren't close. We don't have that kind of relationship. I don't have that kind of relationship with any of my aunts or uncles....(except Aunt Polly). But I know--sure as I could place a bet--that my Uncle Harvey loves me and he knows I love him too.
We can go without seeing each other for a year and it doesn't matter. The love is still there when I see him. In a hug. In a glance. In the shy, not-so-certain way he has of looking away when you're talking with each other.
It's there.
And I'm thankful for it.
And I think everyone needs an Uncle Harvey.
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