I received a call this Saturday from my father. His voice was strange and to the point. It consisted of the basics: "Hi, this is dad. Your uncle Dick was in a motorcycle accident and is in critical condition at the hospital. I'm heading to Monterey right now. Please pray for him and the family." The call was short but the weight of it was enormous.
I haven't been "home" too much since graduating from highschool and heading off into the world. Growing up, I spent every Christmas and most Thanksgivings in the Monterey area with my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. My grandmother is Philipino and the feasts we had were huge. These days I am thankful if I am even with my wife and kids during the holidays or special occasions. I can't remember the last time I spent a holiday with all my aunts, uncles and cousins. I've spoken to them on the phone from across the nation. My father makes sure that everyone has a chance to speak with me. I miss the old days.
My uncle, Richard Whitworth, 62, later succomed to his injuries that evening. He was participating in a Christmas charity ride, along with 300 other riders, for children's toys in Carmel, California. He was struck from behind by an absent minded driver of an SUV trying to pass the pack of motorcyclists.
Mary Ann, Ricky, Cheryl, and Shelly - our thoughts and prayers are with you! Uncle Dick - I'm sorry I didn't have the opportunity to say goodbye but we love you and thank you for blessing our lives while you were with us. We will meet again.
The Passing of a Hero - Ken Taylor
2 years ago