In my family, anyone who was important to us growing up was given the "Uncle" or "Auntie" status. It was less formal than "Mister" or "Brother" and more respectful than just their first names. It has lead to having a host of uncles, aunts and cousins who are in no way related, but in many ways more influential than any ancestor.
Uncle Dave was and is one of those. For most of my life, he was the man against whom I measured all other men. He is kind and gentle. He works very hard. He is polite and respectful. He has a great sense of humour and a quiet laugh. He gives the best hugs. He doesn't yell or criticize. He accepts you for who you are and loves you when you feel like the whole world won't. He is the one man who makes me cry the moment I see him because I feel like he can see into my soul and knows exactly how the world has hurt me and wishes he could make it better.
Rationally, I know he is just a man. He likely has faults and other bad things about him. But to me, he's just Uncle Dave. And I like him on his pedestal, thank you very much.