A tribute to Uncle Harvey or {a thread in the tapestry}



A photo I took of Uncle Harvey in July 2010. 
Doesn't it make you shake your head and smile?


As I considered how I could pay tribute to Uncle Harvey, thoughts of inadequacy entered my mind.  Who am I to speak of him?  Who am I to tell the world who he was? There are so many others who knew his heart better than I, many who had walked with him for decades, many who knew him intimately. Many whose words carry much more weight than my own feeble attempts.

But, as I thought about it, the idea of Uncle Harvey's memory being likened to a richly woven, multicoloured tapestry came to mind.  Each of our stories and memories of him weave a small thread through the thick fabric.  For some, their intimate knowledge of Uncle Harvey gives them the ability to weave their colour of thread frequently and create large, bold splashes of colour across the tapestry. Others, like myself, use a pale thread and weave with small, delicate stitches, in a corner of the fabric. However, each of our stories help to bring clarity and sharpness to our memory of who Uncle Harvey was. Each of our memories add to the depth and richness of who we all remember him to be.  Today, I write this as a humble offering, a small contribution to the vast pool of memories that help us all to remember and celebrate the man we loved.

Uncle Harvey will be remembered for his humour and sharp wit.  By talking with others over the past few days, and reading comments on Facebook, it is clear to see that he was a man who joked around with everyone and loved telling stories.  I don't think there has been a gathering in the last 30 years that I have escaped his teasing in some way. Whether his was trying to cut in front of me in the food line, or delivering a constant stream of one-liners to anyone within earshot, his wit never went unnoticed.  Humour was his constant companion.

But behind that smile, I saw a glimpse of a man driven by something other than the next good laugh.  In the summer of 2009, we had the privilege of building a house for Ash and Jerica.  Being interested in the project, Uncle Harvey made regular appearances at the house during construction.  We had some great conversations sitting on the front porch, especially Jeff and Uncle Harvey. In addition to exchanging jokes, we began to exchange stories from our lives.  I saw a man who was honest and brave in the face of health challenges, a husband who was deeply committed to his wife, a father who burst with pride when speaking of his son, a father who was eager to support his son and his beautiful bride as they started a new life together.  He was a man who kept his word.  He was a man who communicated his love through actions.  He phoned grandma and grandpa, or visited them, daily.  His priorities were reflected by his actions.

As we grieve over his death, we acknowledge our loss, but are strengthened as we focus on all that he has gained....legs that are strong, a body whole and youthful, the company of angels, and a whole new audience for his stories.

Goodbye, Uncle Harvey.  You will be missed.