Everyone should have an Uncle Bob

I only wish I had gotten to have mine here on earth for a little while longer. My mom's older brother Robert Lee Judd, aka Uncle Bob to me, passed away April 2, 2008. I was fortunate to be able to see and talk with him before he died. My mom received a call from another family member notifying her that he was very sick and being admitted to the ICU at the local hospital in Reno, NV where he lived. She then called me and my siblings with this news and told us that anyone who wanted and was able to could come with her to see him. I called my boss and was able to get work off for few days, packed myself and Luke up, drove to Utah to meet up with my mom and sister Kimberly, and then drove to Reno. He only lived another day and a half after we got there. I was able to see him for a few short visits but it was difficult to converse since he was on oxygen and then a ventilator. When the time came, he passed away relatively peacefully surrounded by family who love and miss him.

Uncle Bob was the uncle we kids always ran to but were half afraid to talk to fearful of what he'd tease us about. He loved kids but didn't have any of his own so I think he kind of liked the freedom of enjoying children for awhile but then sending them home with their parents when he was done. I loved to visit my Uncle Bob at his house. For almost as long I knew him, he lived in a single wide trailer that was surrounded by a wooden fence with signs posted on the gate that stated, "rattlesnake area - enter at your own risk." I think he had it there mostly to keep solicitors and the meter man away. I never knew what treasures would be found and unearthed at his place but could always count on being wowed and impressed. If we ever inquired as to the origins of something such as the elephant tail he had hanging in his garage, we were told it came off an elephant. I don't think we ever got a straight answer for anything. He also had a slot machine or two that we would play to our hearts content and were often sent home with change to divide amongst us. I don't believe I ever left his place though without a rock or two or ten. As an adult, my rock collection continued to grow and my unanswered questions remained. Once in awhile he would call me and we'd have a 2-5 minute chat during which we caught up on any pertinent information and then he had to go. He never was much of a talker but he had a memory for things and people and such that I was unequaled. Uncle Bob epitomized adventure, fun, mystery, and quiet love. He never told me he loved me, and I don't think I ever reciprocated, but his unspoken love was still felt. I hope he knew how much he meant to me. I love you, Uncle Bob and life just won't be the same without you. You are missed.