My Uncle Jimbo passed away today at the age of 79. He died in in his own house, in his own bed surrounded by his family.
I was able to see him and visit with him twice in the week leading up to his death. I was able to read Psalm 23, pray for him while I was by his side, stroke his hair and kiss his forehead. I can only hope and pray that he experienced some joy and comfort from that, because I sure did. I’m so grateful I was able to have those precious moments with him that way.
His daughter was with him up until his last breath. As she pat his chest and was speaking to him, she said he slowly moved his head toward her which took all of the strength he could muster and he pierced his eyes open to look at her. In an attempt to say something to her, he instead took his last breath with a peaceful gasp.
I believe she witnessed her daddy’s soul leave his body as it was ushered into Heaven. What a tremendously hard, but tremendously special moment at the same time.
Uncle Jimbo leaves behind his wife who he cherished, 3 children who he adored and 4 grandchildren who he loved beyond words.
I’m grateful for the time I had with him and I know we will see him again.
RIP Uncle Jimbo. I love you.
