Goodnight, Uncle Perce!

My great-uncle died recently - I just found out this afternoon - after a long struggle with lung cancer.  We weren't particularly close until a couple years back, when he and his wife drove down for one of my concerts.  He was a cheerful, optimistic man who never ran out of hugs, clever (and terribly frustrating) word games, or funny stories.  He played guitar in a band of eighty-pluses and adored the song "Goodnight Irene".  When he found out about the cancer, he and his wife opted to move somewhere with a better treatment plan.  The last I saw of him was about a year ago, when he was waiting at my grandparents' place for the taxi to the hospital for his last treatment before moving.  I offered to play the little electric piano while he waited.  It was the first movement of Schubert's last sonata (a personal favourite), and he called it "healing music".

This was by no means unexpected, mind.  He's been steadily deteriorating for the last few months (he was in his nineties), and I think most of the family had gotten used to the idea - especially since he virtually cut off contact when he moved.  He and my Grandma were extremely close - this is going to be very hard on her, but our family's pretty dang good at coming together in difficult times.

But, yes.  He was a wonderful man, and I'm really glad I got the chance to know him a little better (I still remember some of the word games he taught me, and will cheerfully pull them out when I want to feel clever :D).

Though I probably shouldn't, I feel much better today than I did all weekend - it's less stiflingly hot, for one thing!  The invisible tension between all three of us condo-mates has evaporated after actually sitting down and talking things through.  Huzzah!  I also went through a few possible reasons for my weekendly grumpiness (the most important of which was the silly twisted ankle that stayed sore and brought up icky knee-related associations that bothered me way more than I'd expected - and, considering the teenage-angsty stuff that was happening last time I was hobbling about, it's no wonder I was getting annoyed at the drop of a hat).

I can generally judge my mood by the eccentricity of my route to work.  If I just take the bus, something's definitely up (or it's frostbite season!).  If I walk along busy streets, it's probably not a good time to talk to me.  If I take weird little side-routes and back alleys?  Much better.

Today, I walked along fences and low walls and ridges and what was possibly someone's backyard.  Some days, sidewalks are optional. :D

Ooh, and because I wanted an excuse to be listening to new audio adventures at work, I've decided to catch up on one of the past Doctors.  My options, since I want to eventually go the Big Finish route, are to watch the episodes of Five, Six, or Seven.  Currently, I'm leaning toward Seven, if only for the promise of Ace.  (Wait.  She calls him "Professor", doesn't she? Is there no way I can address my instructors next year without giggling?  It was bad enough with "Dr. Wilson" last year.  Heehee.)  I also kinda like the idea of the Doctor being a bit of a manipulative so-and-so.  It seems fun.  Guess I'll find out!