Yesterday the Mrs. and I attended a “Celebration of Life” gathering in memory if my dearly departed Uncle Jack.
My Uncle Jack was a really special guy, the life of the party and a friend to everyone he met. He married my father’s sister when I was but a small kid and I’d say of all the extended family I’ve got, we spent the more time with them than with any other relations, on both sides of the family. I always, ALWAYS looked forward to a visit with Uncle Jack and Aunt Mary.
Yesterday my Aunt asked folks to share stories and such of Jack, but I found myself a little too emotional to speak. Although he passed some time ago, I suppose yesterday was the first time it felt real and I really started to process his loss. Anyhow, I thought I’d share one particular memory of him here, for posterity. And maybe eventually, I’ll let people in my family know about this blog and share it with them.
This is a story- one of many I’m sure- that captures just what a special guy Uncle Jack was…
So, many decades ago, I must’ve been maybe 10 or 11 at the most, Aunt Mary and Uncle Jack invited me to go on a camping trip with them and some other family friends. I was so young, I don’t remember any of the details insofar as what lake we were at and exactly how long we were there, but what I can remember – clear as day, as though it happened last week and not 45ish years ago – was Uncle Jack taking me out to learn how to water-ski. Now, I was NOT an athletic kid by any stretch of the imagination, I was NOT a good swimmer and I’d never been on a boat, much less been dragged behind one attempting to stand up on a pair of skis. As you might imagine, things did not go well for me. But Uncle Jack was beyond patient, and kept encouraging me to keep trying. Well, I did. For a while. But I simply couldn’t get the hang of it and the excersize ended in frustration and embarrassment for me. I felt humiliation, though I didn’t even know that word back then. They hauled me back into the boat after I gave up, exhausted, bruised and beaten. All I wanted to do at that point was go home.
Now, this being the 1970’s, the usual adult response to this would have been to mock the kid for being a “pussy” or make fun of their failure to “toughen the kid up”. Not Jack.
Instead of making fun and letting me wallow in misery, he threw me in the driver’s seat and taught me how to drive the freakin’ boat! The next thing you know, I’d forgotten all about my humiliation and I’m having the time of my life pulling other folks around on skis, feeling like king of the world driving around this hot-rodded, kick ass ski boat.
The rest of the trip went without another skiing attempt for me, but I drove that boat every day and had the time of my life on that trip.
That’s how it was with Uncle Jack. He loved life and wanted everyone around to love it too. He was a very special man and I’ll never forget him.
Godspeed Uncle Jack. I’ll see you on the other side, and we’ll take another long overdue boat ride!
The Boring Old Man 