Most Dearly Beloved

My favorite uncle was not related to me by blood, but by friendship and respect; he was my father's best friend. They worked together and often spoke of their relationship as "Don Quixote and Sancho Panza," though who was who would often change.

My father was a very conservative man, as men his age tend to be. That my uncle was gay was not really a matter for discussion, but it didn't bother Dad, either. Basically, they were friends and whatever they did together and apart was independent of their friendship. I learned a lot about how a friendship could break otherwise tough definitions and boundaries from them.

He was physically large and much more noble of heart. Every person I love has been brought, in my mind, up to his standard. However, if they failed, it didn't mean they were out of my life -- he was simply a way to calibrate people in general and I can't explain how grateful I feel for his many lessons, inscribed in my mind and in my heart.

My uncle was beloved by everyone in my family, and beyond. He was the kindest, most giving of men, and taught me everything I needed to know about love in its purest, most philosophical form -- not by lecture but by example. I'm mostly mad about him because he died before his time, though after I knew him well, but before I was ready to let him go ... not that such decisions are up to me.