Fred Lemieux was my uncle. This morning, I got a phone call from my mother. Uncle Fred has died. Uncle Fred was my mother’s sister’s husband. I’m not sure how old he was, but I’m going to guess he was in his 80s. My understanding is that both he and my Aunt Susie have been fairly ill, so this didn’t come as a great surprise. The wake will be Wednesday and the funeral Thursday. I’ve spent some time figuring out my travel plans. It isn’t all that far from where we live, but I have to figure out how to juggle everyone’s schedule.

When I was young, we would see Fred and Susie and their kids a few times a year. My mother was the youngest of seven kids. Susie was the next youngest, so Fred and Susie and their family had the cousins that we closest in age. When my grandparents grew too old to live by themselves, they moved in with Fred and Susie. My memories of the visits are vague. There was a mulberry tree and we would eat mulberries. There were large bamboo stocks. They lived on a long road and we would walk or ride bikes. There was an old house behind the main house which is where my grandparents initially lived when they moved down there. Later, they moved into the main house as their health declined.

I remember that the TV was usually on in one room or another, that many of my relatives smoked and that there was an endless supply of food. I believe it has been thirty years since my grandparents died, one soon after the other and I can’t remember the last time I was at Fred and Susie’s.