Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro: 30oC, hot and sunny.
My Uncle Mick, Part 1. It’s boiling—a real heat wave for winter in Rio. Temperatures are almost reaching 40°C, which is completely crazy for this time of year.
Yesterday, I mentioned my Uncle Mick, who is my godfather. He is not a blood relative, but a long time ago, he was my father’s best friend, and when I was born, he became my godfather. I have a lot of fond memories of visiting him in his large house in Amblecote, Stourbridge, in the West Midlands, when I was very young, as well as of some family trips we took together. I regularly visited him as we lived pretty close to each other, about 3 or 4 kilometres away, and I enjoyed walking from an early age, so it was nothing for me.
My uncle was married three times. The first time was when he was very young to a complicated woman who bankrupted him. He lived in a car for some time but eventually recovered and bought a large house to do up. After that experience, he never wanted to get married again. However, like many people who don’t learn from their mistakes, he married again, this time to an exceptional person.
Years later, he met an angel – a woman who lived 200 kilometres away from him in London. They would meet once or twice a month, either in London or where he lived. This lady was an exceptional woman who made him very happy. Instead of distancing him from his family and friends, she brought everybody together, including my father, brother and myself. She was indeed a fantastic person with a great sense of altruism.
My father was invited to participate in many of their trips in England and abroad. I think this helped my father immensely, especially when he was going through the separation and divorce from my mother. My Uncle Mick dated her far away from each other for six years, travelling between London and Birmingham every week or two weeks to see each other. Eventually, they married and lived together in my uncle’s house near us.
Sadly, two years after they got married, she was diagnosed with cancer and passed away. She was bedridden for two to three months as she was terminal and frail. Despite going to the hospital, she wanted to stay at home. I would visit from school once or twice a week with a flower to put by the side of her bed until she passed away. My uncle was devastated and almost suicidal. It took him two years to regain some normality. He somehow shut himself off from everybody as he needed time to grieve.
Then, he met his third and last wife. She was the complete opposite of the second. The second wife was friendly, kind, generous, and selfless – a lovely lady for my uncle and everybody she had contact with. However, my uncle’s third wife was utterly antisocial, selfish, rude and complicated. A real bitch!!!
I remember when I was still relatively young, before going to live in London, my uncle was already living with this woman. When my uncle would leave the room, she would say terrible things to me, mentally torturing me so that I wouldn’t come to visit or have contact with my uncle. This was when I was around 14 or 15 years old. Her toxicity caused everyone to distance themselves from my uncle. She would fight or poison anybody who had any friendship, love, or intimacy with my uncle. This affected me and his friends, my father, and our family.
I later went to London and began my professional life, involving boats and such. For some time, I lost contact with him. I once visited my uncle at the new house he had bought, which was smaller than the one he had in the past which I remember from childhood. At that time, I was living in Brazil and back in England for business and visiting family. It was great to see him after a couple of years, and we were happy to be together.
During one of my visits, I found him gardening in the back garden. We were talking when his wife, who was not very friendly, appeared for some reason. They intensely argued in less than a minute, showing completely opposite chemistry from his second wife. It became clear that he didn’t love her but needed a female figure to look after him. My uncle met this woman when he was in his mid to late 50s, so it seemed necessary for him to have a woman to take care of him. Like any relationship, they had some code between themselves, but it wasn’t healthy nor could it be compared to what he had in his second marriage.
It’s illogical to have a relationship, get married, and live with someone who makes you nervous and irritated in a very short period. It is difficult to see love, compassion, and understanding in such a relationship. It was evident to me that he did not love her. Maybe he liked and respected her but needed her because he was getting old. Despite her failings, she was his companion.
Is he being selfish in such a situation? It’s possible, but I see this in many elderly men. They need a woman to look after them in their old age. Maybe “look after” is the wrong word, perhaps a companion for an old man. But also, maybe he is used to having a female companion to care for him, for example, if he were married for 20-plus years, etc. It’s difficult to imagine him spending the rest of his life alone. He needs another woman to continue. Whether a good woman or a bad one is another question.
However, for a woman, it seems to be the opposite. As she gets older, she becomes more independent, content, and happier being alone. She does not feel incomplete without a man. This was evident when I saw my uncle’s relationship with that third wife. It seemed more like a matter of convenience.
I also saw many similar examples at my school, where older men seemed to need a woman, but older women who became widows or were divorced did not want to have a man in their lives again, at least not in the form of marriage. They might be open to dating and maintaining separate residences, but they didn’t want to marry or live together.
It became difficult to visit my uncle in such circumstances. Every time I went there, the situation was uncomfortable and stressful, and there was tension in the air; an argument could happen or explode at any time.
While in Brazil, I would regularly call my uncle. I spent a small fortune on calls, but it was always good to talk to him. My uncle wasn’t very tech-savvy; he didn’t have an email or WhatsApp, so I would have to call him on his landline. He was always kind and affectionate with me, and I loved him dearly. Since my father was absent most of my life, my uncle was always present – a second father, someone I could lean on if there were problems. He was a perfect godfather, true to his word.
My uncle’s third wife passed away about five years ago, and he passed away more or less three years later. This is the first part of the story about my uncle. Read the next part to understand how complicated people can be.
I taught classes, went to Copacabana to buy silicone for the bracelets, and met an old flame for coffee. Everything is going well.
In bed by 9.00 pm.
Thank you.
Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.
Richard
