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Silent Night

“You’ll be just like the daughter I never had!”

Uncle Harold.

Not a blood-related uncle, but one chosen, loved for his goofy humor, & his staunch defense of a gawky girl with teeth too big for her face.
One of my dad’s best friends, but my chosen “Uncle”.

One of the few allowed to call me by a nickname that had previously been reserved strictly for family who’d known me since birth.

Uncle Harold. The man who let me ride his horses whenever I wanted, who always told me what a beautiful girl I was, when I knew better.  I was an awkward teen, & not very self-secure.

His younger son was my classmate,  his older son was in my brother’s grade.  We herded cattle on horseback together once or twice a year, for many years.

Uncle Harold.
Who passed away from cancer just a couple days ago.
Whose funeral is on Saturday,  and I will be there.

Because I’m the daughter he never had.
Goodbye, Uncle Harold.
I love you.


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