I am minded to blog about Uncle Cyril. There is already one written a couple of years ago I think but today is a variation on the same theme.
He was an old boy who lived a short distance away from me....he was not my Uncle ...that just what everyone called him....I invited him to the house for a meal and it became a weekly event. It was for him an outing that he looked forward to every week.
When he got sick I visited him, took down the phone numbers of his daughters in case anything happened to him...and I called in to check on him every night on my way home from work.
One morning there was a call from the doctor. Uncle Cyril had died....did I have contact details? Yes I did and before going to school I rang both daughters, neither of whom I had met.
That evening I called in to see how things were going....they had had a busy day....nothing of value remained in the house....clocks, pictures, lamps etc...everything had been removed....I walked up stairs to find the same thing up there...
The daughters had emptied the house in a day...I had no idea how....
At the funeral they looked at me sharply and said
"There's no point in your looking for our mothers jewelry. ...it's all gone.".
Stunned I just walked away....the last thing I was thinking about was jewelry.
Death brings out the worst in people.
It was the first time I'd seen the vultures gather...It certainly won't be the last.