a message from the beyond

My uncle Paul died this February, bringing the dead uncle count to three (3) and leaving the missing uncle count at one (1). I learned this weekend that he's been speaking to us from beyond the grave.

We have this weird generation thing going on in my family, where my uncle was 12 years older than my dad, and his sons, my cousins, are 40-ish, and their kids are all under age ten. My dad is halfway in age between his brother and his nephews, and my siblings and I fit in right inbetween our cousins and their kids.

So my aunt and uncle had 3 boys. Two of their boys (the East Coasters) had three girls each. One (West Coaster) had a boy and a girl (see Independence Day photos). (How many were going to St. Ives? Are you paying attention? I expect you to draw a diagram for your homework.)

While my uncle was sick, the youngest daughter-in-law was doing some of his care, being a nurse. This being the DIL whose last baby was, if family rumor has it right, a little bit of an oops. A good oops, but an oops.

"E," my uncle says to her, drugged up, "you're going to have another baby."

"No, Paul," she says. "I'm not having another baby. Even if you're dying. I'm not having a baby because you say so."

Fast-forward to Saturday. My aunt is visiting.

E. is pregnant.

This is SO my uncle. Somewhere he's either nodding seriously and saying, "It was God's will. It's meant to happen." Or, he's chuckling over a bowl of ice cream and saying "I hope it's a boy!"

Will she break the Great East Coast Girl Streak? Stay tuned.