Goodbye Uncle Dave...

Today we said goodbye to my Uncle David...it was a lot harder than I thought it would be. My Uncle David is my dad's oldest brother. The firstborn of seven, he is also the first of the seven to leave us. He was 65 years old.

Norman David Sinclair was born to Helen and Harry Sinclair, December 4, 1944. A couple years later, Richard was born, then my dad, Glenn. Helen and Harry had very little money and soon they had lots of kids. Like many families during that time, they lived in a very small house and the older kids played a big part in raising the younger ones. When David was 14, he took a job as a delivery boy and used the money he made to help with the families expenses. When he joined the Navy at 17, he boarded a ship and sailed all over the world, serving his country and sending money home to his family. He married my Aunt Binky, and they had two sons. Brian and Larry were the joy of David's life. They lived in a small home but it was always bursting with people.

When I was a little girl, we often got together with my dad's siblings. At any given gathering we would have 10-15 of us grandkids running around together, lots of times these gatherings were at Uncle David's house. His laughter made you feel welcomed and comfortable. He always took time to talk to me, hug me and let me know he knew I would do great things. He really knew how to make you feel special. He just loved people. He also loved Jesus.

About six years ago, Uncle David started forgetting things. He was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease, and he progressed rapidly into an unbearable state of illness in which he didn't seem to remember anyone, even his wife. The sadness of losing the one you love to this disease is like no other, and watching the strength of David's wife and sons is more than just inspiring. I have watched those boys gently and consistently care for their mom, and I watched Aunt Binky care for her failing husband with dignity and unconditional love.

Today, as we layed him to rest, I was once again amazed by the love of our God. I watched through tearful eyes as six remaining siblings gathered to say goodbye to a brother. Laying aside differences to join in celebrating David's life. They remembered his generosity, his love of family and his love for his Savior. As the back of the car carrying David's body was opened at the graveside, I was moved to tears. David's brothers joined on either side of his sons to carry his body to it's resting place. As a bagpiper played, I thanked God for David's life and that through his death, these siblings were reunited and some very old wounds can begin to heal. David would have loved that...