My earliest memories of this uncle are of him casting a fishing net into the pond behind his house. He, unlike almost every other adult I came across in Bangladesh, did not pay special attention to or spoil me.

He is purposeful and speaks infrequently.

Once, when I wouldn’t leave him alone because all I wanted to do was go net fishing, he took me on an adventure to get bait. I probably didn’t shut up, but he never showed annoyance. He just smiled. I enjoyed mimicking his behavior. He didn’t tell me where he was getting bait from in response to my incessant questioning – he showed me. He climbed up a tall betel nut tree with absolutely no difficulty, and returned with part of a fire ant nest full of larvae.

This is my oldest uncle. He’s actually the husband of my aunt, but I like him better, and in Bangla, you don’t make the differentiation in words anyway. You refer to them as you would blood. Uncle. “Foofa.” Paternal. As long as I’ve remembered him, his beard has been white. He’s thin, tall, and handsome.

He picked out the larvae while getting bit numerous times. He didn’t flinch. He explained that sometimes, we have to inconvenience animals for our own gain, but that we should be careful and gentle. He also said that he only took a piece of the nest because the ants would rebuild, just like with honey and bees. For years after that, my uncle was more myth than reality in my mind.

During my most recent visit, I was reminded emphatically that this man is a treasure. He doesn’t kill mosquitoes because “they have to eat too.” I can’t begin to explain the things he’s endured in his life. This man is the closest thing to a saint that I can point to.

There is a gulf between here and there – of language, culture, familiarity. As someone who was conceived in Bangladesh and born in America, I live with a deep grief of knowing that I do not know what I do not know. I have not had the good fortune to spend meaningful time as an adult with people that mean a lot to me.

He’s ill currently. He’s old. If you’ve read this far, I ask that you pray for him.