I promised myself that this blog wouldn’t be a parent bragging site, but anyone who saw my daughter Emily get up and speak at the family wake for my Uncle Jim would allow me at least a bit of pride. When her grown father was emotionally unable to utter a word in front of the crowd, Emily eagerly stepped up and related the story of our lunch with Jim in San Diego in December. I am unable to recant the story here. While she spoke, I heard only my own heart beating in my ears. I paid no attention to her, but rather suffered while holding back my own emotions.

Truth be told, my daughter’s been a little angel through Jim’s too-short battle with Lukemia and his death, inquiring constantly about his state of health and sending cards and emails. She cried in our arms when we broke the news that he hadn’t made it through his first chemo treatment, and grieved with us many more times over the next week. She showed feelings I was unable to comprehend in a child of her age. At school she created “The Book of Jim,” on a folded photo of her great-uncle printed on the computer. In it she described her feelings and wrote a personal note to Jim asking him to come back and be a “real person” again.

While Jim was in the hospital undergoing Chemotherapy, Emily learned how to use her Email program and sent one of her first Emails to him. I’ve saved it here along with the picture that she drew on the computer:

Dear Uncle Jim 2-20-06 I wish I could be with you right now.I had fun with you at lunch.I really miss you.Iwant you back. I wish you can come back all helthy. Your neice Emily.