A Sad Day

My uncle died today. He was out jogging and suddenly keeled over, and despite the best attempts of the ambulance service to restart his heart, it sounds like he was dead by the time he hit the ground. I don't know if it was a massive heart attack or an aneurism.

He was in his early 60s, very active, always on the go; he ran the London Marathon several times (I used to go and cheer him on at the corner of Northumberland Avenue, at about 23 miles when the road suddenly goes up a slight slope), he was the Chairman of the Governors at my old school, a long-standing member of the church council, involved in the Gideon Society and for the past few years, a lay preacher. He liked to do his bit, to be involved - a real pillar of the local community.

I saw him a couple of weeks ago when I went to visit my parents. He looked fit and well, and was really enjoying watching Jacob and Sam pootle about; he was especially amused by Jacob's chatter.

Although I'm in a state of shock about this, it being so sudden and unexpected, I'm already sifting through my memories of him. As you'd expect, they're from when I was much younger and lived at home; he was was married to mum's younger sister and our two families were very very close as I grew up.

Having thought about it, my over-riding memory of him will be him sitting on my mum's sofa on Christmas Day, almost weeping with laughter at the Morecambe and Wise christmas special. I'm not sure which was funniest, M&W or him laughing :-)