My uncle Charles (affectionately known as Uncle Chuckles/Chuckleberry) was in the hospital for about a week and a half. He had a pretty nasty staph infection, and while in the hospital, he hurt his back as well. He's had a rough time of it, but he was finally allowed to go home yesterday. Still, it sucks that he's all the way in San Antonio and that I haven't been able to go visit him.
Uncle Chuckles is 70 years old, but I've never thought of him as old. He's still incredibly active and in good health, which will help him immensely as he recovers from this major setback. Still, he's going to have to use a walker for awhile and won't be able to get to the upstairs portion of his house. All this makes me very sad, although I know that he will recover.
Uncle Chuckles is the closest thing I've ever had to a father figure and is the only one of my extended family who flew out for my wedding. He's an architect and lives in a turn-of-the-century house in downtown San Antonio. He collects cool pieces of art and is the reason why I have a very nice collection of colorfully carved wooden boxes. I love him very much and think of him often. I'm wishing him lots of good healing and patience. I know that his recovery will be long and hard, but I also know that he will make it through this.