Miracles Happen

Help from Above

by Andrea Hartley

My father’s brother, Jack, was my favorite relative. He was a kind and gentle man. As a small child, I was about to kill a fly in the back seat of our car. He said, “Live and let live.” My 6 year old mind was astounded by that concept. I pondered that from time-to-time over the years. I remember him most as the one person who gave me unconditional love when I was growing up. Uncle jack lived a 2 hour drive from our house so he only came to visit a few times a year. When he came he always stayed overnight and I was always devastated when he left. When I was 18 he lay in a hospital bed dying of cancer and my father would not let me go to visit him. My father must have felt that he wanted to spare me the pain; but I hated not being there for Uncle Jack. Despite my protests, my Dad refused to allow me to go. He was very strong-willed and not someone that I could easily defy. He also didn’t allow me to go the funeral. For years I was haunted by the fact that I couldn’t be there for my beloved uncle. What must he have thought? I pictured him lying there, wanting to see me one last time. My miracle


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