I’ve been thinking about my Great-Uncle Larry quite a bit recently. He passed away — gosh, has it been 2 or 3 years ago now?

I’m not sure, even though all this time has passed, that it’s even sunk in that he’s really gone. He always traveled so much that I keep expecting him to come home from his job working on the boats or from his winter stay in Florida. Part of me believes one day there will at least be a postcard from him, wherever he’s gone.

I find myself thinking of him most when I’m in downtown Nashville, walking to go get lunch or what have you. I think about how much he’d have loved coming to visit us here. He would have loved me showing him all the sights.

He took me so many places and showed me so many things when I was a little girl. He took me on my first trips to Asbury Woods, Presque Isle beaches, and to Frontier Park to sled-ride. When I was a teenager, he took me to Cocoa Beach, which marked my first time ever seeing the ocean. I never really thought about how many hours he spent dragging me all over the place to see new places and learn new things. I remember when I was a little girl I could call him any time of the day and say, “Hey do you wanna do something?” and he’d drop everything to come take me to Waldameer or to the zoo.

I can’t help but daydream about how wonderful it would have been to have gotten the chance to switch roles — for him to have come here to Nashville, my new home, where I could have shown him all the wonderful things I’ve seen and learned about. I’d take him to see the Parthenon and all the museums. I’m sure he’d have enjoyed seeing the Ryman and I’m certain we’d have walked out onto the Shelby Street pedestrian bridge to take pictures of all the pretty city lights at night.

I feel lucky that I’ve been able to share all those things with other members of my family, but somehow I still am sad that my uncle wasn’t here for it. He gave me so many wonderful memories and experiences, it makes me sad to know I’ll never get the chance to pay him back for all he did for me.