Last Man Standing

My 93 year old uncle died on Saturday. Many will agree that he lived a long rich life. He had four children who grew up to be successful adults. He has successful grandchildren that he was very proud of. Graduates from Rice, Harvard MBA, Stanford Law, George Washington University, to name a few. My heart goes out to all my cousins, nieces and nephews. (In Hispanic families the children of our cousins are our nieces and nephews.)

But the person I keep thinking about the most is my dad. My dad is 83 and he has one other brother who is 88 and lives in San Diego with his daughter. Uncle Hector is so old and weak that he couldn't make the trip to the funeral in Brownsville. It's so sad because he once lived in Brownsville too. He was a policeman until he retired. After his wife's death seven years ago he had a bad fall and he couldn't live alone any more. My cousin took him to San Diego to live with her.

On Saturday night my father called to tell me the news of my uncle's death. He wanted for me to help him find a flight out on Sunday morning and I did. I called him back on Sunday morning to give him his flight choices. He wanted a one way ticket and he said he'd figure out how to get back home.

My heart went out to him. I wondered how he felt, now that there were only two of them left. And knowing the state of his brother in San Diego, it's pretty certain that my father will be the last one left standing. I wonder what that feels like when you come from a family of thirteen and you're number ten. I'm sure he's once again faced with his mortality. Every time a brother or sister dies he must be reminded of that.

He's very aware of his age and his limitations now. He had a car accident recently and he doesn't want to buy a car. Texas has passed some new laws for senior citizens and he's worried that if he spends money on a car he won't be able to drive it for long. He's been riding the bus everywhere, only by day, thank goodness. Never-the-less I worry about him. I worry that he may get mugged. But I also worry that he'll be driving and he'll get into a car accident and that he'll kill himself or that he'll kill someone else.

I'm leaving tomorrow to New York, so I won't be here when he gets back home. My cousin is giving him a ride home. I won't be able to sit and talk to him about this until next week. I know he'll tell me he's fine and he won't admit that he's sad, but I know he is. I know he must be.