Moral Mondays: “Blood Is Thicker Than Water” – Uncle Joe


My Uncle Joe was a waster.

He disappeared one day after an argument with his dad.

Never heard of again we all wondered what happened to Uncle Joe.

My dad would take me to the park to wander around among the hobos to see if Uncle Joe was there.

My dad died never knowing what happened to his brother. But we found him many years later, in the police records, a vagrant, a homeless thief and scoundrel. But despite all he was he was one of us and we celebrated his return.


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15 Responses to Moral Mondays: “Blood Is Thicker Than Water” – Uncle Joe

  1. mandibelle16 says:

    Very interesting story. Your story reminds me of a Bible story where a father gives his son his inheritance and the son leaves. The son wastes his inheritance, forced to work for a pig farmer, not even able to eat as good as the pigs. His only choice is to go home and his father welcomed him home with joy and kills a goat (some animal?) in his son’s honour. Your story reminds me very much of this parable, although this parable doesn’t only talk about welcoming our family back and loving them, even though they’ve done wrong 🙂 Excellent job!

    • I see what you mean in terms of the prodigal son but let me assure you Uncle Joe was no prodigal son…we don’t know what happened to him or where he is buried but we do know he lived a rough life.

  2. lorigreer says:

    Sounds like the prodigal son. How lucky Uncle Joe was to be able to return home.

  3. Some people can’t help themselves. Poor man.

  4. Jenn says:

    Great story. Unfortunately, I think many of us have an “Uncle Joe” somewhere in the family tree. But family is family and you still cherish the good parts.

  5. Nortina S. says:

    Like Jenn said, many of us have an “Uncle Joe,” and no matter how much of a disappointment he is, or no matter how much he hurts us, he’s still family, and we’ll always love him in our hearts. Great story, Michael!

  6. Lynn Love says:

    Nice story, Joe. Sad when people fall through the net like that, when you see homeless people and wonder if their mother loved them, if they had hopes and ambitions as a kid. A sad wate of life. Nice spin on the prompt

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