The loss of a parent can be debilitating. It surely is life-changing. My dad, Kent Clarkson, passed away nearly 40 years ago when I was 13. I still think of him every day. He was my best friend. He went to work one day and never came home. I still feel that sense of loss.

In my case, I was profoundly fortunate that my dad’s brother, my Uncle Craig, stepped in and provided loving support, guidance and an occasional nudge when needed to my three siblings and me. He was a steadfast and constant presence in our lives. Alas, he joined my dad last week; the brothers from Ash Street in Brockton are finally reunited. Rather than mourn his loss, though, I would rather share with the Falmouth community just what he meant to so many of us.

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