100

January 6th marks the 100th birthday of my uncle John. 100! He went to Heaven in 1976 when he was just 55. I’ve blogged a lot about John. A fellow Son of Xavier, an uncle to my 17 cousins, a presence that held our family together.
As those of you who read my blogs know, I have a thing for Superman. Superman is and has always been America’s hero. John was a weight lifter. When I was 5 or so, I remember asking my mother if my uncle was Superman. She looked at me and very seriously told me that she couldn’t tell me because ‘no one was supposed to know’. That sealed it for me. From that day on, my uncle was Superman and I was now entrusted with this knowledge. I mean, after all, he carried my sister and I up three flights of stairs using nothing but the palms of his hands. Who, but Superman, could do that? Who, but Superman, could dead lift 511 pounds using just two fingers? A world record still standing.
But the real reason he was Superman was that he stood for what we believe is the best within us: limitless strength tempered by compassion, that could bear adversity and emerge stronger on the other side. He stood for what we all feel we would like to be able to stand for, when standing is sometimes the hardest.
He loved his family. I was just 17 when he died and, truthfully, my loss of him deeply affected me.
It’s only when you grow up, and step back from him, or see how much life has changed since he left that you can measure his greatness and fully appreciate it. Pride reinforces love.
My uncle taught me that you can you read a hundred books on wisdom and write a hundred books on wisdom, but unless you apply what you learned then its only words on a page. Life is not lived with intentions, but action. So, I wish John were still here on his 100th birthday. I’d have a lot to talk over with him. Happy Birthday, John.