I hadn't seen Uncle John in years and years, and our kids (Maddie and Harry) had never met him. One day I came home earlier than usual to find him behind my house in the driveway, unannounced, sitting in a folding chair in aviator shades, sleeveless shirt, and cowboy boots. He was drinking a beer, with his feet up on the seat of his bike. 

The kids were in high school then, and came home shortly after me. We did a quick boat tour of the Severn River all the way to downtown Annapolis and had dinner at the beach after Britt got home from work. The whole time, Uncle John regaled us with stories most of which the kids had never heard (and some of which they probably shouldn't have), told us plenty of jokes, and was generally his loud, loud, LOUD, loveable self. 

He left the next morning, and the kids looked at me (and Britt) wide-eyed and said, "Why have we not met him before??!! He's just like Grampa (Ed)! He looks like him! He REALLY sounds like him! Except he's COOL!!!!!!"

We'll all miss you, Uncle John. ❤