Uncle Boo Taught Me Not To Judge Those Who Are Different From Me

In the above photo I was nine months old and my uncle was fourteen years old.

I couldn't say Bill or Billy when I was a baby so I called my uncle Boo. He liked it and was called Boo by me for many years to come. It was only after I became an adult with pretty big kids of my own that I finally started to call him Uncle Bill. To be honest I think he missed my saying Boo.

You might wonder why I decided to share my story about the Uncle whom I dubbed Boo? The answer is he is a huge reason why I accept people for who and not what they are.

You see my Uncle Billy was gay. I say was because we sadly lost him one Halloween to Emphysema.

I remember the day my Grandma sat me down to have a serious conversation with me. I was sixteen and she had something she wanted to tell me about my Uncle Bill. She stumbled with her words several times when I just blurted out, "I know he's gay."

My grandmother’s mouth hung open from shock and asked who told me. I explained to her that no one had told me. It was just something I had known as far back as I could remember.

It saddened me that she was terrified to tell me. I know she loved and accepted him for who he was. Maybe she was afraid that I would not.

Uncle Bill always wanted to have children of his own. Sadly in his day, this was not a possibility. He did have a life partner but they would have never been able to adopt a child. Society was far too harsh and judgmental to allow it at that time.

He always told me that I was the closet thing he would ever have to a child of his own. Uncle Bill spent a lot of time at our house my first few years of life. Then he met his partner and moved away. However, we kept in contact via phone until I was old enough to write and he answered every letter I sent him. I would visit when I could and I was always excited to go see him.

My Uncle had a beaming personality. To know him was to love him. He was funny, kind, and had a loving nature. If he thought you needed his shoulder, you had it.

We remained close, even though we did not live near each other, over the years. Sometimes we would spend hours on the phone. Laughing and sharing our lives. I miss him to this day. In many ways he was a better father to me than his brother was.

I'm quite sure you've noticed the coincidence in the fact that he passed on Halloween and I called him Uncle Boo. It's okay if you giggled. Uncle Bill had one hell of a sense of humor. I know he would have found the humor in it. He also would have found a way to joke about it being my fault that he passed on that particular day.

I miss my Uncle Boo and all the laughs that he gave me. I am very grateful that knowing him taught me not to be so quick to judge people who are different from me.