Me and my “U.J.” (Uncle Joe)
My uncle up and moved to Ohio some years back. We were in touch once or twice a year, and the miles really distanced him from his family in every way. He lived alone, but I always assumed he had close friends that kept him company…otherwise, why else would he be living there?
Every Christmas he called us, but this year he didn’t. He was inconsistent and flighty, and we assumed forgetting to call us was just him being the way he was. Then we went on with our busy lives.
Yesterday I found out the reason he didn’t call was because he died. He had a heart attack in his apartment, and no one discovered him until his landlord checked on him two days ago.
For two months, he was gone, and no one even noticed.
I am posting this in hopes that whoever reads this will take a moment to think about each and every person in their family—particular those who live alone and keep to themselves. If something happened to them, would they be accounted for? How long would it take for someone to figure out something was wrong?
Never assume that someone who is alone has someone who checks in on them. That person can be more alone than you ever imagined.
I debated whether to post this cause I don’t mean to bum you all out, but I am looking for any small way to make something constructive out of this tragedy. My uncle was a good man, and although I sometimes resented him for choosing an isolated life, I loved him very much. No one deserves that kind of ending.
RIP Uncle Joe…I will never forget about you again.