Everyone you know exists as a person you know them to be. And that may be different to how others know them to be. This is who I know my uncle Stephen to be. He was married to my maternal aunty, so we didn’t share blood. But we shared our family. I know it sounds weird but I always, always, always referred to him as uncle Stephen - and I never told him but it was because in my mind, he earned the title. “Uncle Stephen” was code for “I love you & thank you - thank you for being a wonderful father to my cousins, three of my favourite people in the world. Thank you for being an adoring husband of my aunty, my fairy godmother (making him my fairy godfather). Thank you for your your dad-jokes. They are as legendary as they are terrible. Thank you for making my wildest dreams come true - Disneyland with my dad & cousins, a limo tour of Los Angeles, seeing an orca in real life, and that trip to Universal Studios a second time because the Jurassic Park ride was closed the first time! Thank you for your quiet dependability - leaving for work earlier so you could drop me off to work on your way, holding the bags so we could all go on a ride together, making sure the BBQ was ready for lunch… and one of my favourite memories, chauffeuring me on our days spent together at the San Diego museums & the La Brea Tar Pits. As I think about it, I’m sure there is so much more behind the scenes that I never even know about. I’m sure you had to help so my aunty could take me to my medical appointments. I’m sure there’s more that you can’t even remember because helping is just second nature, you don’t give it a second thought & just do what you can. Thank you for being family - true, reliable, through thick & thin family. I feel welcome in your house & I know that I am safe, loved & home. Thank you for being you, Uncle Stephen.” I never told him this outright. A big hug & saying ‘thank you for everything you do for me & my family, Uncle Stephen’, which I did when I last saw him in person in Montréal, just wasn’t enough. But you never know when it will be the last time you see somebody. If I could do it differently, I’d have still called you ‘Uncle Stephen’, but I would have told you why. But instead I’m just heartbroken. My grief is for myself, as I mourn the loss of my uncle Stephen. My pain is immense for my aunty who has lost her husband, her best friend, her soul mate. The future of retirement, adventures, and even bigger family milestones was there yesterday, and now it looks so different. I hurt so badly for my cousins who have lost their dad - their fun, smart, caring, dependable dad. I am so sad for the loss of a future-grandfather. If his girls decide to have children of their own, he would have been such a goofy, loving grandad. It’s not fair for anyone that he misses out. I’m so sorry for the beautiful Lawrie family that they’ve lost their husband & father. I’m sending all my love & strength to you all & desperately wish I could give you all a hug in person. ‘Uncle Stephen’ - I love you ♥️