My Uncle Rick…. As a child I grew up idolizing my Uncle Rick, there being just a few years between us we were more like brother and sister then uncle and niece. As a child my mother worked full time at a truck stop and tried to go to school full time too, so she had very limited time to raise my brother and I. So I would spend the week with my grandparents while my mother went to school (my brother would stay with our father). Growing up with my grandparents was a different sort of lifestyle, we had no running water, to heat the house they used wood burning stoves, so you’d go to school with the stench of smoke. My grandmother would put buckets out to collect rain so that she could boil it to heat it for baths, do you have any idea how much a bucket of water turns out to be in a bath tub? (About an inch of water all around you!) As a child I learned to appreciate the small things in life that other people took for granted, say a toilet that flushed. Well we made the most of it growing up, and needless to say I grew up somewhat sane.
Anyway back to my story of my hero. My Uncle Rick has Lupus, a disease that affects you body so that it basically starts attacking itself, he has little memory of things that have happened in his life. Last year I made the journey out to see him, after learning of his disease and hearing that his life was to be much shorter then we all expect it to be. I left my three year old behind with his father, and I made the journey out to Oregon to see him, not knowing what kind of shape he might be in and not sure if I could bare to see my hero sick. When I arrived my aunt and grandmother were there to pick me up. After some strained small talk we made our way back to Salem where they were staying with my Uncle’s ex-wife. Trying to keep the peace between my grandmother and myself I chose that the best idea was to stay with my Uncle’s ex-wife so that I didn’t have to deal with the stress of pissing them off. In doing so I regret that I didn’t just blow them all off to spent every waking minute with my Uncle, but we all do stupid things in a effort to make other people happy, ignoring our own feelings. Well after a day of dealing with them I got to go out to dinner with my Uncle, his wife and the kids. He seemed okay, a little older then I remember him, he had gained some weight due to the handful of pills he had to take every morning. He had become a man of wisdom and still more then ever my hero. I still looked at him like I did growing up.
When it came time to talk about the past, I was touched that after pretty much forgetting everything that had happened in that past 10 or more years he could remember our great adventures. You could see the gleam in his eye as he told his wife of the time we went out on his dirt bike in the cherry orchard or the time we chased the neighbor’s peacock into the woods which ended badly for the peacock, the time he stuck me in the mail box to scare the postman (it was a BIG mailbox!!). The time he tied me up with shoe strings so I wouldn’t follow them (them being my uncles brothers) the time I tried chewing tobacco because he had some and I wanted to be just like him….BAD IDEA!!
It was so touching to know that in his eyes I was his hero, too. The way he spoke of our childhood was as if I was telling the story! I listened and laughed at the funny parts, only to feel like I wanted to burst out into tears and beg it not to be so!! I couldn’t live without my Uncle after all heroes aren’t supposed to die! They are supposed to live forever! We had our fun and talked most of the night, I went back and stayed with my grandmother, aunt, and my uncle’s ex-wife. Two days later I went out to breakfast with my Uncle and his family, I met his dear friends who were like parents to him, I was touched to see how much pride he gleamed with as he told them who I was “ This is my niece Astoria…” he go on to tell of one of our adventures, and they would all laugh.
After breakfast my uncle and I took a trip to Dallas where we had grown up. We went past the place where we used to fish, past the our old school, past the place were we used to go get ice cream after we had chicken dinner. Then he took me up the hill to were it all began, the place where all the memories came from. As we got closer I noticed that not much had changed, a few more houses, yuppies trying to take over the hill. He started to slow down, the memories started to come back to me, I looked across the road to where we would dirt bike in the cherry orchard, it was as if I could still see us there. Then back towhere the house used to be, now an empty lot with less trees and a lot of brush. It’s amazing how time changes. When my grandpa was sick they had to move to California, the weather was too moist for his lungs, it made him sick. After he died not much time after, they moved, they tore the house down and put the land up for sale. The land seemed so dead, so gloomy, it was so sad that the place where we had made all these wonderful happy memories could be so empty. So on we went, up to were my cousins lived, past were childhood friends had lived. On we went past more places were memories were made. It was almost like journey of the end. The whole time I wanted to burst out and say “your not sick, stop playing another one of your tricks on me, your NOT funny!” I knew that wasn’t the case and I fought with myself to put my best face on, I didn’t want him to see me cry.
The next day, the day before my journey back to reality, we went for a ride on his Harley. Now one important thing about my uncle that I forgot to mention is that since he was a kid he wanted a Harley, so when he got to show me his bike he was like little kid. I loved watching him tell me about it, they way his face lit up. We got all ready to go, helmet, jacket, and on we went. Now here is where I lost all control, we were out on a back road away from much of anything when he chuckled to himself, and he said “for old times…”, I said “go for it…” And he did 90 miles an hour down a deserted road, the pressure from the wind made my head feel like it was going to come right off! I didn’t care I started to cry to myself, he probably felt the same way I did, I was that little girl who was so caught up in the moment that I didn’t care what tomorrow brought for that moment I felt truly happy. I had finally let myself feel the joy of being there with him, and the sadness of the possibility of his life being cut short.
The next day he drove me the airport, it was a sobering experience, we both felt it, the heaviness of the good bye that was creeping up on us, much sooner then we had wanted. He took the long way, we made small talk, stopped and had lunch. Then we were there, at that damn airport were we had to depart from our trip down memory lane. We were faced with the reality of this could be the last time we ever see each other again, I cried (like a big baby!) and after a huge long hug, a word of take care and I love you, he walked away. I saw him wipe the tears out of his eyes, even though he tried to hide it from me.
The reason for my story is that tonight I talked to my Uncle, he is doing okay, even though everyday he has to fight to get out of bed, because his legs are in bad shape from the disease. He tries to live his day to the fullest and not to dwell on the inevitable. I feel I need to tell the world about my Uncle because of the wonderful man that he is. He and his wife just took in, 3 months ago, about 10 kids! My uncle being an adopted child, felt like he needed to help out kids like him. Do you see what I am talking about?? I love this man, I don’t know what might have happened to me if he weren’t there for me. I want shout it from the roof tops how much he means to me! I dread that day I get the phone call that he is no longer with us, I dread it everyday. I know we all have people in our lives who have touched us in someway, who have been there for us when no one else was. I hope that my story will make you get off your ass and tell them what they mean to you, or tell them how much their love has helped you. You never know when that’s all someone needs to hear to help them get through a tough time. Please pick up that phone, write an email, do whatever it takes before it’s too late, life is too short, we should let those around us know how much they mean to us. Thanks for reading my story….
