Uncle Chris

My husband's uncle is getting taken off life support today. This isn't a Terri Schiavo thing. The doctors said the only thing keeping his heart beating was the drugs, and there would be no recovery -- the heart attack, pulmonary embolism, and subsequent infections took their toll.

Uncle Chris was one of my favorite's of T.'s relatives. He spoke like Boomhauer, his rapid, deep Carolina drawl seeming to get stuck behind his bushy mustache. He was the biggest raving liberal redneck good ol' boy you've ever seen. I wish Peanut could have gotten to know him.

That's about it for Peanut's great-aunts and uncles. My parents each have a sister still alive, but I don't have any contact with them (for very good reasons, believe me). Maybe this is why I felt such a need to have a baby, because our family is so very small.

T. is feeling especially bad because he had the chance to call him when he'd first gone into the hospital, but never got around to it. I tell him that there is no point in beating himself up about it, his uncle knew he loved and cared about him, but I know it doesn't help. We'll be taking a trip for the funeral in the next several days, so if I seem to disappear for a bit, that would be why.