Leafing through a pile of old papers, I came across a photo of a great-uncle who was my very special friend and mentor. Though he died a little more than a year ago after 96 years of a good and eventful life, this very clear and up-close photo put him back in the room with me for a moment.

It reminded me of how great a listener he was. He looked you in the eyes when he listened. Everything you said was valuable because he cared about you. He'd reply thoughtfully with heart and humor.

Many a Saturday when I was a teenager, we'd sit at his dining room table and "do stamps." To help me with my collection, he'd pass stamps from my tongs to his and explain what all they had to do with US history and with the two of us. It was all relevant. I loved all of it. My uncle could collapse the history of this nation into an afternoon and somehow it had everything to do with being together at his table.

Though we lived across town from each other, we wrote letters. His were beautiful, look-you-in-the-eye messages of familial love. Here's a piece of one letter:

A short time ago we were having lunch outside at the north end of Lake Waramaug when a monarch butterfly kept flying in near my shoulders and Aunt Ruth said she didn't know I was so sweet. They are beautiful insects and about the longest traveling ones alive. They migrate to and from S. America, I think. Shortly after that, I saw a Mourning Cloak feeding on the flowers along our drive. For fun I wanted to see how close I could get to it. Within a couple of minutes I was within two feet and then put out my hand. It kept feeding and I was able to stroke its wings on one side with the back of my fingers. It must have been enjoying the nectar because I have never been able to touch one before.