My dear Uncle. To me, you were sensational and dynamic and exciting, full of life, worldly and mysterious. I loved visiting you and Steve - to the little girl I was then, your home was glamorous. That you had a bar in the loft was spectacular and I loved buying you useless trinkets and what must have been terribly gaudy decorations for it for Christmas - and yet you always sat them out when we were there. I remember so well feeling beautiful in the delicate white gauze embroidered blouse with the wide angel sleeves you brought me back from Saudi Arabia, and the gold necklace with my name in Arabic. When you popped in for a visit, you were magnetic - like a celebrity in town. What a treat and a blessing to be able to furnish my first apartment living room with your old furniture - those heavy, solid wooden end tables and coffee tables with the glass tops, and that incredibly comfy brown corduroy couch. You had such style! And I was honored that you passed it on to me. I wish we'd been closer as I got older, because I think we'd have really liked each other as adults - as fellow foodies and lovers of wine and fine things. I think I remember that you drank scotch way back, and now I love a good bourbon. In some ways, maybe, when I married a sailor and left Frederick to live all over the country, I was channeling some of your love of life and adventure. The downside was the distance - in all the ways distance exists. I know you've blessed many wonderful friends, and I am grateful to them for being so very present in your life. Rest easy, Uncle Jerry.