Dear Frank,

You may remember when my son, David was 14, and his teacher, beloved-yet-strict Mrs Spain gave the students the assignment to write a character sketch. Remember who he chose?  His uncle – My brother David! 

I came across his essay recently, so beautifully written, and in the process of missing my big brother (who lives far away from me, in Central Texas) I thought I’d just share it with you. I think you’re going to enjoy it: 

Uncle David

My mother‘s brother, Uncle David, is an unusual person. He doesn’t have lots of college degrees, but is considered to be extremely intelligent. He has always read a lot and has traveled all over the world. He has lived in foreign countries just because he was curious about the people in that country and how they lived. He learns foreign languages easily and can speak to almost anyone in any foreign country. He can tell you about geography and literature and history without referring to any books. He knows how things are made. He knows why things work the way they do. He doesn’t dress like anyone else. He doesn’t eat like anyone else. He doesn’t think like anyone else. He is probably the most unusual person I’ve ever known.

I believe that Uncle David and I are alike in many ways. He and I are both curious about many different sorts of things. He and I like to figure out why animals behave the way they do, so we experiment and test them and their behavior, always gently and in a kind fashion, but just to find out what makes them do what they do. We both are interested in fishing, so we make special lures and paint them very specific colors in special places on the lure, to test what type of lure will attract a certain fish. We both like to sail and we’ve learned exactly how to feel when the wind will change and how to make ready the sail to accept the change in wind and to make our boat go the way we want it to. We both enjoy architecture so we draw plans together, discussing, and thinking for hours about how to place a house on his property, and how to arrange the house, so that it is the most efficient design. No one else in our family likes to do these things but us. We are alike in these ways but different from the rest of our family in these areas.

In addition to having the same name, my uncle and I actually look alike in some ways and even act alike. We both have the same bone structure. We both have the same nose, eyes, eyebrows and lips. We both respond to conversation the same way. We react to jokes with the same thoughts and responses. My mother said that we make the same sound when we hear a story and don’t want to give our opinion, that is, we just sort of give a short hum, which neither indicates agreement or disagreement with what you are saying. We both find the same sort of behavior in other people to be humorous. When we see people acting a certain way, we can look at each other and give a certain look which indicates to each of us that we’re thinking the same about that person. Different from the rest in our family, he and I are the only ones who don’t always give our opinion when asked.

Uncle David and I are different in a few ways. He likes to eat only very healthy things. I like fast food and my uncle wouldn’t dare eat that sort of food. Uncle David likes to drink lots of unusual types of beer. I have tasted some of them and I do not care for the taste of them. He likes anchovies and sardines and caviar and I do not. He likes to buy his clothes from military supply stores, and I like to get mine from Abercrombie and Fitch. Uncle David thinks it is better to walk than to drive to someplace nearby. I prefer getting there by car, no matter how close it is.

Uncle David and I are alike in more ways than we are different. I may become more like him as I get older and my tastes change. I wouldn’t mind that.

— David Caughran, 14 years old

Reading these words now, I realize how much truth my son captured at fourteen — and what I see — my brother’s uniqueness, his originality, his elegance, his wit, his wisdom. A renaissance man.

After years of living with rheumatoid arthritis, countless surgeries, and relentless pain, his prosthetic joints have restored some of his strength and freedom again. He pours himself into his passions — voracious reading, his endless curiosity about topography and weather, and steady work on renovations at his old house situated deep down the back roads of Texas. His life is not only a story of physical hardship but also of persistence, curiosity, and a determined, quiet, strong  desire to continue forward. 

When I think about us, I hear the music we have made together. He has always had a gorgeous singing voice. As teenagers we sang together in the car, harmonizing everywhere we went. We loved popular music but I would accompany him as he sang the opera piece Caro Mio Ben, and I cannot hear that piece without remembering the beauty of his voice. That sound is woven into my memories of our youth.  Golly, we have had so much fun together.  

And then there is his humor — the dry wit that has always set him apart among friends. To this day, he can make us laugh with the simplest gesture, like “being a turtle.” He strains his neck, slowly blinks, and somehow manages to look so perfectly like one that it sends us into fits of laughter.

The truth is, my brother has always left his mark wherever he goes. Through his travels and encounters across the world in years past, and through the ties of family here at home, all of us are impacted and inspired by who he is. Not in spite of his somewhat unusual ways, but because of them. 

This is why I share stories like this: because legacy matters, and the dignity of each family member is to be honored. I have always admired my brother David’s wisdom and inventiveness — and  his refinement, intelligence, gentility, and grace are a complete statement of who he is inherently. From an early age, my son saw it too — and I am grateful his young eyes captured it so clearly.

As the psalmist David wrote, “The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance” (Psalm 16:6). That verse rings true for me when I think of the Davids in my own life — my brother, whose wisdom and wit leave their mark on us all, and my son, who carries that same name and now reflects those traits. Their lives remind me that God’s inheritance is not measured in possessions, but in the character and faith He plants within us and passes from one generation to the next.

Love,

Jane