Friday, December 6, 2024
Before he became an official “girl dad,” he was a “girl uncle.”
Uncle Charlie taught me a lot about what it means to fiercely and generously love and support the people in your life. Serving as a flower girl in his wedding to Aunt Sue, I was honored and excited when he joined the family. Moving Reebok aside so I could curl up next to him on the couch at Grammy’s house during holidays together, he would ask about my life and never failed to make me feel seen and important. He did that every time I saw him for more than 35 years. He was devoted to Sue, family, his dogs, me, his daughters, my husband and kids, and his grandkids. In fact, there was and is no end to Uncle Charlie’s love. If he knew you, he loves you.
He also taught me a lot about showing up for your life no matter what. His optimism and ability to find a smile or a chuckle at any moment were well-honed skills. He never sugar-coated a situation but always chose to believe that things would work out right.
I hope to remember these lessons now as I try to comprehend the loss of Uncle Charlie’s physical presence. And when I visit Ocean City or curl up on a couch with my extended family at a reunion or watch an Eagles game or see a Harley Davidson or pass a Fed Ex truck making deliveries, I’ll welcome the opportunity to be reminded of his lasting influence and interminable spirit.
