Footprints

Late last week my uncle (by marriage on my moms side) passed. Although I was sad, I wasn't overly emotional about it.
He had, you see, been living with years of health issues and a wheelchair that replaced his once active life. His death was, in my eyes, a gift to reward his many years of pain.
I was calm, cool and collected. My plan was to simply spend time with my family, work some, and then head out to the wake and service/rosary.
My plans to work were quickly replaced with long chats about life, death, family and the past.
Memories of my dad, who passed nine years ago this year, started to dig deep into my soul. But yet I remained calm. 
Today wasn't about my dad...it was about someone else's dad, son, brother, and husband.
Today was about my uncle, a man that although I wasn't particularly close to, left footprints in this thing called life.
He was my fathers friend, before he even married my mothers sister. He sometimes took my brother to little league practice, and always brought us gifts.
Christmas, Thanksgiving and summer BBQ's, he was always there. I'll never forget his hearty laugh and the way my father and him would reminisce about their small town upbringing.My mother reminded me what a genuinely good man he was - not in the "good man" way folks pen others when they pass. But genuinely good.It goes without saying that my uncle left an undeniable footprint in my childhood memories.
I think we all do. Leave footprints. I just hope one day my road marks also touch someone's life in a positive way like my uncle did.