Today is my uncle's birthday. He would have been 78. But he died in March 1982, at age 47. Cancer. He was my mother's older brother. I am named after him. (His middle name was Paul).
He and his wife had been married for eight years and hadnt been able to have children yet. I was his girl. He would come get me and keep me for hours. And spoil me rotten. We were always very very close. My first child was born two years after he died. A baby girl. The day she was born I missed him more than I have ever missed anyone in my life. He would have been there. And she would have been his girl. He would have spoiled her.
He had a boy fifteen months after I was born (and he is named after my father). We grew up almost like brother and sister. Three years later he had twins ... boys. I was still his girl. My brother was born almost seven years after me. My uncle claimed him too. He was always taking all of us somewhere - maybe just down to the park to play ball - but he was there for us, and with us.
He always went to everyone's house on Christmas morning to see what all the kids got. He'd get his boys up and let them play for a little bit while he fixed breakfast then they all had to load up and go see what everyone else got. They never seemed to mind not getting to stay home and play with their own toys though. One Christmas my brother got a go cart. A two-seater. It had poured down rain for three days before Christmas and our yard was a lob-lolly. When my uncle arrived the go-cart was on the carport and we were inside. He said "let's go ride". My brother said "we cant, it's too muddy, we'll get stuck." He said "come on boy, we got a go-cart and we're gonna ride". So out the door they went and onto the go-cart. The minute they left the driveway and went off into the yard they bogged down and mud started flying everywhere. Now, that wouldnt be so bad but you see, my uncle was wearing a suit and tie. That's what his (second) wife had gotten him for Christmas (he wore them to work) and so he put on his new suit to show her how much he liked it. I'm not sure they ever got that suit clean enough for him to wear again -- but he rode that go-cart!
When I got my first car I wasnt quite 16 yet, but my Mom and Dad wanted me to have it a little early so I could get used to it while still driving with them, so they would feel better about turning me loose in the car I had been driving all along. The day it was delivered to the house by our local dealer my mom and dad were both in bed with the flu. So, no driving the new car. I called my uncle to come see it and he said "lets' go for a ride." Now, you werent supposed to drive without a parent or legal guardian, but we took off anyway. We stayed to the backroads .... I'd never been on most of them before, and havent been on some of them since, but we rode for two hours in my new car.
Every time I sit in front of a fire -- fireplace, campfire, bonfire -- I think of him. He and I would sit for hours around a campfire. Long after everyone else had gone to bed we would sit there. Never saying a word, just staring at the fire. Once in a while we'd add a log or stir it around a bit. And then we'd just sit there some more.
He and my mother's cousin "Hutch" were BBQ kings. Mom and I were just talking last week on Labor Day (it was POURING rain) how Uncle Gaines and Hutch would be sitting out there at that firepit cooking - one turning the meat while the other held the umbrella - because it was all about the all-day cooking for them. We never quite knew if the meat was as good as we thought it was or if we were just all so starved by the time they announced "dinner's done!" that we would've eaten anything (uhm, one time I did eat "anything" but that's a whole different story).
Happy Birthday Uncle. I love you.
