My uncle Val (my dad’s older brother) has died at age 87, the same age his parents died (I lived in Australia then in 1984-1985 with my brother). My dad and his brother had an awful upbringing with a selfish neglectful mother. Val had it hardest. He served in WWII. Became a communist. Was filled with rage all of his life. Shunned my dad when he became an Adventist, then came back into dad’s life when my mom got cancer. I remember Val as argumentative, stubborn, but good-hearted and very generous. In his final years, he suffered a nightmare situation. He rolled out of bed, got trapped in his bedsheets, and couldn’t get out. A neighbor found him a few days later.
Looking at Val and his wretched unhappy life, I see what my dad could’ve been if he hadn’t embraced God and religious causes. Val was hopeless and bitter. My father is filled with faith.
