That family circle
To add to the unspectacular month we are having, on the way to Walter Reed for my preop conference today, I got a call from my Uncle Had that my Uncle Mickey passed away unexpectedly. :(
It got me thinking tonight about the great circle that makes up family, and how encompassing it is.
Uncle Mickey was not my blood uncle, but he felt like it. He was the youngest brother of my Uncle Had. Uncle Had is not my blood uncle either, he was my aunt Vieve's husband, so an uncle by marriage, and so his brother was sort of an uncle-in-law once removed, I guess. But he felt like a REAL uncle, if you know what I mean.
Uncle Had was always a big hulking fellow with a dour face, who looked more German than Irish (from his mom's side of the family). He was the second oldest in his own big tribe, but his oldest brother passed away when he was still a young man, so Uncle Had became the oldest of his family by proxy.
Uncle Mickey was the youngest, and looked more Irish than German - he had black hair and twinkly blue eyes and that perennial '70s tan like Malibu Ken. He was our "good looking uncle". He and his wife Aunt Shelley (who had that perfect blonde model face) were such a cute couple, and they lived two blocks down the street from me, halfway between our house and Uncle Had's house. They had two kids, Sami and Brent, who were a bit younger than me, but we all carpooled to school together all the way through elementary school.
Uncle Mickey was a mailman in the neighborhood. When he wasn't driving his mail truck, he had a big long cream and wood grain station wagon that he used to haul us home from school in. There was a definitive order to the seating arrangements in the car, which was typically bringing home 8 or 9 kids, back in the pre-required seatbelt era. My cousin Marie, top of the totem pole as an 8th grader, got to sit in the front seat with Uncle Mickey. Next oldest down the line, me and my cousins Tricia, Lynn, and Sami got to sit in the "way back" of the station wagon, with me and Tricia getting the primo seats right next to the gateswing rear door. Nothing cooler than hanging out the back window shouting out to your friends as Uncle Mickey drove us home. The three littlest: Rabbit, Haddie and Brent, got the ignominious "middle seat" with no view. ;) Uncle Mickey also demonstrated his coolness by letting us blare the FM radio on the station that played all the current groovy rock tunes, unlike Uncle Had, who played more "easy listening" type music for Aunt Vieve in the car.
I think the last time I saw Uncle Mickey was at my wedding. After I moved away, he and Aunt Shelley moved off our street to a little house not far away, but once we kids were all out of school, our paths rarely crossed. I did run into Aunt Shelley and Sami from time to time at the store, and we'd catch up, but it has been a long time since I saw them, though we still exchange Christmas cards.
Tonight at the funeral home, I was having trouble finding the appropriate entrance, when a young man walking through the parking lot helped me. It was my cousin Brent. I don't think I've seen him since he was about 8 or 9! But when I went inside, I immediately spotted Sami, and we had time to catch up with each other. Aunt Shelley looks the same, just like an older version of herself, still sweet. Uncle Mickey, unbelievably, looked like an old guy, finally. His hair went the way of Uncle Had's, and he got very skinny and no longer had that rocking Malibu tan from back in my younger years.
But that is the way I'll always remember him, standing on the sidewalk in a t-shirt and running shorts, his blue eyes twinkling, trading quips with my Aunt Vieve and joking with the kids, always laughing. Such a good natured, handsome guy, who drove me home from school for so many years. I think it is that kind of dedication that makes someone family so much more than the DNA. My family was full of almost-relatives who were just as good as the real thing. And I'm very thankful for the Uncle Mickeys, the Aunt Marys, the Mr. Sammys who were just as much a part of my family as my my other relatives. Blessings!
It got me thinking tonight about the great circle that makes up family, and how encompassing it is.
Uncle Mickey was not my blood uncle, but he felt like it. He was the youngest brother of my Uncle Had. Uncle Had is not my blood uncle either, he was my aunt Vieve's husband, so an uncle by marriage, and so his brother was sort of an uncle-in-law once removed, I guess. But he felt like a REAL uncle, if you know what I mean.
Uncle Had was always a big hulking fellow with a dour face, who looked more German than Irish (from his mom's side of the family). He was the second oldest in his own big tribe, but his oldest brother passed away when he was still a young man, so Uncle Had became the oldest of his family by proxy.
Uncle Mickey was the youngest, and looked more Irish than German - he had black hair and twinkly blue eyes and that perennial '70s tan like Malibu Ken. He was our "good looking uncle". He and his wife Aunt Shelley (who had that perfect blonde model face) were such a cute couple, and they lived two blocks down the street from me, halfway between our house and Uncle Had's house. They had two kids, Sami and Brent, who were a bit younger than me, but we all carpooled to school together all the way through elementary school.
Uncle Mickey was a mailman in the neighborhood. When he wasn't driving his mail truck, he had a big long cream and wood grain station wagon that he used to haul us home from school in. There was a definitive order to the seating arrangements in the car, which was typically bringing home 8 or 9 kids, back in the pre-required seatbelt era. My cousin Marie, top of the totem pole as an 8th grader, got to sit in the front seat with Uncle Mickey. Next oldest down the line, me and my cousins Tricia, Lynn, and Sami got to sit in the "way back" of the station wagon, with me and Tricia getting the primo seats right next to the gateswing rear door. Nothing cooler than hanging out the back window shouting out to your friends as Uncle Mickey drove us home. The three littlest: Rabbit, Haddie and Brent, got the ignominious "middle seat" with no view. ;) Uncle Mickey also demonstrated his coolness by letting us blare the FM radio on the station that played all the current groovy rock tunes, unlike Uncle Had, who played more "easy listening" type music for Aunt Vieve in the car.
I think the last time I saw Uncle Mickey was at my wedding. After I moved away, he and Aunt Shelley moved off our street to a little house not far away, but once we kids were all out of school, our paths rarely crossed. I did run into Aunt Shelley and Sami from time to time at the store, and we'd catch up, but it has been a long time since I saw them, though we still exchange Christmas cards.
Tonight at the funeral home, I was having trouble finding the appropriate entrance, when a young man walking through the parking lot helped me. It was my cousin Brent. I don't think I've seen him since he was about 8 or 9! But when I went inside, I immediately spotted Sami, and we had time to catch up with each other. Aunt Shelley looks the same, just like an older version of herself, still sweet. Uncle Mickey, unbelievably, looked like an old guy, finally. His hair went the way of Uncle Had's, and he got very skinny and no longer had that rocking Malibu tan from back in my younger years.
But that is the way I'll always remember him, standing on the sidewalk in a t-shirt and running shorts, his blue eyes twinkling, trading quips with my Aunt Vieve and joking with the kids, always laughing. Such a good natured, handsome guy, who drove me home from school for so many years. I think it is that kind of dedication that makes someone family so much more than the DNA. My family was full of almost-relatives who were just as good as the real thing. And I'm very thankful for the Uncle Mickeys, the Aunt Marys, the Mr. Sammys who were just as much a part of my family as my my other relatives. Blessings!