A plate of milk and cookies

for Uncle Ron

But the rain kept falling. The moment I
heard, I expected it to turn directly 
to snow with hooves on the townhouse. Maybe 
an alert from the Ring or a knocking on the dryer vent. 

Instead, rain. 

What comes to mind is laughter. 
So much that he kept it stowed
away with the collectible Oreo tins, 
the cookies long gone of course. 
Gone like —

“Will you forgive me if I don’t make it 
to the wedding?”

I think of him as I would a snow globe - one
bought in a coastal souvenir shop with a palm tree 
done in lights. Maybe on a Harley in another life, or
a game show runner.

Who is the strongest among us? Those
who smile despite, love despite - 
are despite.

I look today for a sparkle in the eye, mischief out of love.
The way it came right out of the red silk sack, slung
over his left shoulder. 

---

This is a reflection on my Uncle Ron who passed away this weekend. He always put together a surprise Santa appearance every Christmas… despite the age of the room.

Jokingly, mostly, he one time gave me a tin of Oreos for Christmas because he collected them - then, he ate the cookies when I was in the other room and asked to keep the tin for his collection. Goofball.