This is my favorite person, my father’s brother. This is how I choose to remember him even though this photo is ten years old now. Thankfully, my kids love him too. His is eighteen years older than my father, therefore I looked to him as a grandfather not an uncle. Maybe he became a grandfather to me since I had none. He is a retired Priest. His siblings tell me that he had a temper in his younger years. I have never been a witness to that. He is the kind of person who will always pick up the phone (he has a cell phone) and be willing to chat- no matter what he is doing, no matter how long it has been. He is your friend. He cares. He laughs. He introduce me to Tukaram, a sufi poet:
Birds
don’t brag about flying
the way we
do.
They don’t write books about it and then give
workshops,
They don’t take on disciples and spoil
their own air
time.
Who could dance and achieve
liftoff with a bunch of
whackos tugging
on you?
Z to Infinity 