Thursday, July 12, 2012
Uncle Bert (from Unfinished Story)
He called me blondie. I would hide behind the coats in the hall and blush. I remember him crying out when he came in the door, " There she is, Blondie!" I was a cotton top when I was a little girl. That is about all I remember of my Uncle Bert. I know that he lavished attention on me because of my blond hair. I know that my parents had one picture of him as a child. It was a black and white photo of a little boy with a big collar and long golden curls. That was the style for little boys in that era. And I know that he was married to a very good woman, a Roman Catholic, and had a daugher. Even after years of abandonment his wife refused to file for divorce because of her faith.
I also know, that like so many of my Uncles, his life was a tortured one. He was an alcoholic and a nomad. He wandered his whole life.
He finally ended up in New Orleans, and it was there that he fell drunk in the street and was killed by a truck.
What else is there to say?