KRISTOR WRITES:

The many recent threads at your increasingly invaluable site on the subject of the intense longing children feel for their fathers has prompted me to reflect upon the great importance of uncles.

I am thinking primarily of those single mothers who have commented to the effect that they, or someone they knew, had to leave a husband due to domestic violence. Some, perhaps, have been widowed. What I would say to such women is, before you start looking about for a man who is going to be willing to marry you and play the role of stepfather – not that there aren’t good men out there who would fit the bill, but they are rare – get close to your brothers, if you have any. If you don’t have any brothers, then older nephews are a good bet; and, of course, grandparents. If you have male relatives who are any good at all, they are the best thing you can do for your children. 

A story. When my eldest son was 18 months old, he was intensely shy. He went nuts if anyone tried to get close to him, aside from his parents and grandparents, whom he had always known. My brother – a single man of 24 years, whom my son had never seen – came to visit us for a week, back from a long sojourn in the far wildernesses of Africa and Princeton. He was exhausted from his trip, and shortly after he arrived he succumbed to deep sleep on the couch. About ten minutes later, my son climbed up on his belly and fell fast asleep, rising and falling on his belly, their breathing synchronized, totally relaxed. They slept together that way, quite peacefully, for two hours. In his sleep, my brother automatically adjusted to the presence of his nephew, and when he gently turned on his side he cradled the babe in his arm. My wife and I looked at each other, our hearts breaking with the beauty of it, and said, “Well, I guess Jeremy will be OK if anything happens to us.”

 Your children will recognize your brothers – or their father’s brothers. Those men will smell like home, will in a sense constitute home. They will make your children feel as safe as they can possibly feel, given the fact that their father is gone. So get close to your brothers. Move to where they live, if you have to. Make them part of your children’s lives. Your children will automatically treat their uncles with respect, will hunger for their approval and will eagerly learn from them, in much the same way they would with their father. When I visit the households of my siblings, the first hour or so is always taken up with a solemn conference with my nieces and nephews. No matter how long we have been apart, they surround me, and talk, in quiet excitement. They tell me everything they have been doing, the things they have been thinking about and worrying about, their recent victories and discoveries, with great seriousness and intensity. I listen, comment, approve, grunt appreciatively, offer sage advice. Inside, I feel honored, and unworthy; for I know that the only thing I have done to merit their great trust is to show up. And more: I feel my love for them; feel that they are mine, my own kin. I learn what I would be willing to undertake for their sake. In terms of the strength of the feelings of protectiveness and charity that it engenders in the male breast, avuncularity is next to paternity.

Sage McLaughlin writes:  

Thank you for posting Kristor’s beautiful note. If I may, I’d like to add an anecdote of my own. 

A close relative of mine is an unwed mother of four. Her eldest is a quiet, intense girl whose main response to the unpredictability of her life has been to carve out tiny fiefdoms of order and stability wherever she can—at one point, all she had control over was a corner in the bedroom she shared with her three siblings, a little island populated by her jewelry box and a few neatly arranged sundries. She has the wide, hungry eyes that other men have written to you about recently. I remember being on the receiving end of that eager stare one afternoon, and I can second the feeling of those who have said that it was a deeply disquieting moment, and one that I will never forget. 

What really took my breath away was something that I heard about only second hand, something that links up perfectly with Kristor’s theme. One day at school her class was asked to draw a series of concentric circles. In the innermost circle, she was to write the name of the person she trusted most. In the second circle, she would list the names of the people she trusted “second-most,” and so on. In the center circle, she wrote “God.” In the second circle was my name. I, who had met her and spoken with her only infrequently through the years, was a person she trusted implicitly, more than any other man she knew. There’s no doubt in my mind that Kristor is right about this, and that she could see in the lines of my face the mark of a close male relative. She knows somewhere deep in her bones that this is a person whom she can trust, and who would keep her safe. It’s astonishing. 

Anyway, I’ve tried to nurture something of a good relationship with her, though I have only seldom been able to see her because of the distances involved. I try to send her small presents, and talk to her on her birthday. I go to see her at school when I’m in town. There’s no mistaking how important this is to her, nor how thoroughly inadequate it is to fill this void in her life. It’s a difficult, heart-breaking thing, but nonetheless I try to make some small contribution. Who knows what impact it may ultimately have, but I do have hope for her. 

Thanks again for posting Kristor’s thoughts.

James B. writes:

Kristor’s wonderful note on Uncles brought to mind my own relationship with my sister’s boys, who my sister assures me look up to me in a way to which I am entirely unworthy (Since my brother in law has only sisters, I am their only “blood” uncle)  But it also got me thinking (in way perhaps inevitable for someone who spends far too much time thinking about Catholic theology) about how such relationships mirror the Trinity.

The Father is too awesome (in the original meaning of the word, before the modern world debased it to mean “really neat”) for us to approach directly; even as He radiates Love, his power makes us tremble to approach Him.  The Son, however, even though he shares in the mantle of the Father, has a human face; he allows us to approach and, as with Kristor’s brother, find comfort on his bosom. 

James H. writes:

I am blood uncle to 20 children and “uncle-in-law” to 5 more. To all of them, I am “Uncle  Jimmy”. To each of them who has (or is) flirting with the toxic ideology of leftism I have devoted considerable time and effort to disabuse them of their error. There is no question that an uncle plays a special role in his nieces and nephews lives. He’s an important part of the puzzle that children are constantly attempting to assemble. He nurtures, guides and provides essential sustenance. 

Myself, I’ve had good uncles and not-so-good uncles. And to this day, my good uncles fill me with happiness when I see them. My wife and I have had one of our nephews live with us for two years when he couldn’t get along with his own parents and needed a break. I’ve taken my nephews and nieces on vacations, I’ve paid for some of their college and high school tuitions but most importantly (in my mind) I’ve provided them with an unflinching conservative perspective which, hopefully, will reverberate through their lives. None of them have any doubt whatsoever as to where I stand. 

I emphasize to each and every one of them the importance of truth, that truth always occupy an inviolate place in their lives and that the only way to apprehend truth is through reason shaped by the transcendent truth we accept as Catholics. I’ve told each how important it is to resist the Siren’s Song of the left. I’ve told each and every one of them that if they can avoid the pitfalls of booze, drugs and liberalism and incorporate a spirit of gratitude in their hearts they will likely find happiness. 

So I wish to thank Kristor for his insights into the role of uncle. As fate would have it, I’m leaving now for lunch with my mother’s brother.

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