Dear Uncle Teeny,
I still miss you.
If I can’t say anything else, I just need to get that out first. The writer in me wants to be eloquent, to pick and choose and dance around my words, and maybe halfway into this letter I’ll be able to do that, but until then I just needed to say that first.
So much has happened in the past ten years, I don’t know where to start. You were there when I moved into the dorms; I wish you could have been there when I graduated. I wish you could have seen me off to the Peace Corps, and been at the airport the day I came back.
When I moved to Washington, I wanted to share the news with you- again when I found Anne, again when I joined Xbox, again and again for every major event in my life.
When I asked Anne to marry me, when she said yes, I wanted to call and tell you.
You were missed at every holiday, every family event. I wish you could have seen Nickolis get married, could meet your grand nephews, could see him now, a young man following in your footsteps or service and public safety. I wish you could see Rachelle grow into a smart, strong, fun young woman.
You touched enough lives to fill a stadium- gave your ear, your shoulder, and the shirt off your back if needed. You helped others stay on the right track, and set an example to all who met you. If I become half the man you were, I’ll be satisfied I’ve done things right.
It’s been a hard ten years without you Uncle Teeny. We all still miss you very much.
Love,
Kamalani
In memory of Nick “Teeny” Jones, III
July 19, 1964 — March 11, 2004
Jon Thysell 