My Uncle Henry Hughes passed away on November 29, 2019 after battling Alzheimer’s for several years. He was my uncle, for sure, but in so many ways Henry was more like the older brother I never had. Given the ugly nature of Alzheimer’s, we all understood what was coming. Still, while the end may not have come as a surprise, it did come as a shock. When I awoke on November 30th, it was the first new day in my life without Henry Hughes in it. It did then, and still does now, feel like my world is a little less complete than before.
Henry did things in his own unique style. He had a certain confidence about him that I always admired. He could think on his feet. He married well, and his devotion to his beloved Betty gave the younger of us a shining example of how a married couple can truly become a team. He could tell a story with the best, and he played no small role in our family’s strong oral tradition. He taught me much, like how to hit a baseball or catch a pass or drive a car. He took time with me, lots, and he did it out of love. That’s what Henry did. He loved on his family. And he got that love back in spades.
Henry had a way of filling up a room when he walked into it, and over the course of his life he filled a lot of hearts with his generosity and his loyalty. My wife and I chose Henry and Betty to be the guardians of our three children in the event something catastrophic happened to us. I never had a moment’s doubt about that decision. Later, Henry admitted to me that it had meant a lot to him to be so highly regarded that I was willing to trust him with the lives of my children. It meant a lot to me that it meant a lot to him. It’s no coincidence that my daughter has a son named Henry.
It would be difficult to find someone who had a close relationship with Henry who didn’t feel he made them better by his presence in their lives. He was a husband, father, coach, friend, and in my case, uncle, and without any doubt he was one of the most important figures in my life. I had plenty of role models growing up, but very few mentors. Henry supplied me with both. I will be forever grateful for the encouragement he provided me, the validation he gave me when I was on the right track. And if he felt I wasn’t on the right track, I’m likewise grateful for the candid and sometimes stinging feedback he would provide when he knew I could do better. Effort was important to Henry, and he made it important to me. Thankfully.
Henry’s great gift to me, and I suspect to many others, was to encourage me to live life unafraid—and as such, to push out beyond the comfort of my immediate reach, to win with class and lose with grace, to see not just the crescent but the whole of the moon, to always to give the very best I had in me, just as he did.
And what a priceless gift that was.
RIP, Henry Lee Hughes. I’m so very glad our paths crossed.
