April Fool's Day. One of those weird holidays that has never really registered with me. I love to laugh, but pranks aren’t really my brand. Instead, I'm thinking about my uncle who died on this day, four years ago. It was amid the first big wave of lockdowns and hospitals were completely shut off to all non-essentials. He'd been complaining of respiratory problems for several weeks and was admitted to his local hospital in Mississippi in late March. He never tested positive for COVID-19, but ultimately died of what the doctor claimed was double pneumonia. It was a heartbreaking, miserable mess, all dealt with from afar, like so many other deaths in 2020. I was saddest for my dad who couldn't be with his only sibling when he passed and for my cousin, locked down far away in Honolulu mourning his father. Like my dad, Uncle Dick was a woodworker. Years before when I was working at the violin shop, he gave me a brass Sweetheart block plane, a tool I used frequently and continue to treasure. The Christmas before he died, he gave my brother and me each a pair of knives he'd crafted. Thanking him over the phone that afternoon was the last time I spoke with him. After getting the dreaded call from my dad on the afternoon of April 1, I went out to the garage and spent some time sharpening all the tools Dick had given me. I couldn't even gather with my family the day he died.