Paul David Mulheran was born in 1957, between John and Peter. Beyond that, I can't tell you much about the guy. I've heard he was clever, affable, and gentle of heart. But that's about all I know. What I can share, however, is that I find myself disappointed that I never had the opportunity to meet him, and imbued with an onrush of emotions when I read my dad's anguished words about how hard it was to lose him, and how that pain and sadness never really ebbed.
That evening, weary from a long day of travel and work, I sank into a couch cushion and lazily thumbed through my phone, perusing still more emails. My sister, Mary, who should really have a blog herself (and can you sing on blogs?), had penned a beautiful missive to our dad, noting that many of the characteristics he had used to describe Uncle Paul are traits she sees in her baby brother. Maybe, she opined, this was God's way of giving Dad more time with his little brother. Besides being overwhelmingly flattered (and seriously, my ego is healthy enough already...), I consider it a tremendous honor to be the subject of such a comparison; I hope that it's not only valid, but that it provides my dad joy, comfort, and pride.
For a little over 10 years now, I've also answered to the name Uncle Paul, as my siblings have brought six fantastic boys into the world. They were a driving force behind my decision to move home to Minnesota, and I'm overjoyed that I get to spend time with all of them. It's a name I bear with great pride as a homage to the past, and it makes me happy to be a living embodiment of some of my father's memories of his brother, Paul. As I told my dad, the only comparison more flattering would be if I reminded him of himself.
