My Favorite Uncle.

Me and my favorite uncle.  

Ok, ok, I only had one uncle.  But he was definitely my favorite relative.  He was so full of life and always so much fun to be around.  I haven't met anyone as easy-going as he was, or who liked to stir up as much good-natured trouble.  He always treated me like an adult and he never judged me for being who I was.  I always respected him for that.

I remember visiting him when I was little.  my family took a road trip from Connecticut to Florida in a Dodge Omni.  Four people.  Tiny car.  But it was worth it.  With Uncle Steve around, there was always fun to be had.

He let me drive his rider lawn mower when I was little.  I didn't really know how to work it, and couldn't quite steer properly.  I drove it right into a tree in his front yard.  I was expecting to get yelled at.  But, though he did kick me off while laughing at me, he did not yell.  It was an accident and I was a kid and all was forgiven.  That's just the kind of person he was.

My first ever go kart experience was with my dad, uncle, sister and cousins.  I had a headache that night (I had fallen off the bench at the dinner table when my cousin pushed it in too fast) and they all kept driving past me and laughing.  It was all in good fun.

Once, when my uncle's family was home for a visit, we all went to Playland in Rye, NY.  I Playland.  It's a fun place to be, and that trip was no exception.  My uncle Steve and I went on one of the roller coasters together, after having waited to be able to sit in the front seat.  He was hootin' and hollerin' the whole ride.  He was so animated!  It makes me laugh to this day to think about it.  We decided to go on the same roller coaster again, but this time was not as fun.  We were loaded into the seat, safety bar lowered across our laps as the ride started.  *click*click*click*click*click* as the chains pulled the coaster up the hill.  We inched closer and closer to the top, anxiously awaiting the adrenaline-filled drop over the crest.  But it never came.  The clicking stopped.  We were stuck.  This was not good, I thought.  I didn't really know what to do, and the safety bar pretty much offered only one option- staying put.  But my uncle stayed calm as a cucumber.  No big deal.  The ride would start.  Right?  And so we waited.  And waited.  Still no movement, still a calm uncle Steve.  People started calling down to what, in retrospect, must have been a poorly trained twenty-something working their summer job who could not figure out how to get the ride up and running again.  They (from the safety of the platform) assured us we would be fine, and made no attempt to free us from the obviously malfunctioning ride.  Another ride-goer eventually figured out how to release the safety bar in his own car and alerted the ride operators that he was getting out and helping the rest of us escape as well.  We all tromped down the skinny ramp next to the roller coaster cars and got safely back on land.  As we found the rest of the family in the amusement park, we all recounted the tale as though we had all shared some great adventure.  There was no crying.  There was no fear.  Uncle Steve's relaxed nature made sure of it.

I was always the troublemaker in my family.  I was always the one being scolded or put it the corner with no hope of of release for good behavior.  I remember once that I broke something of my mom's.  Being a fellow troublemaker, my uncle covered for me and took the blame.  He kept me out of trouble and it was our little secret.  He was a cool uncle.

Because of him I almost went into the Navy.  I had so much respect for him and his accomplishments.  I asked him once what he did for the Navy.  He told me he was a diver.  Simple.  No further explanation.  I asked his title.  Master Chief.  (Ok, now we were getting somewhere.)  Master Chief of what?  His reply?  "I can't tell you."  That was pretty badass.  I always wanted to know more, but it wasn't in the cards.  For all we know, he was an underwater ninja who saved the world while we all slept.  It wouldn't have surprised me.

He always said that it was easier to get forgiveness than permission.  I loved that.  He had a million phrases and smiles to go with them.

The picture at the beginning of this post was taken last Thanksgiving.  It was the last time I would see him.  We promised to visit him in Florida and go sailing with him, be somehow a year went by without that sailing trip.  I deeply regret letting distance prevent me from spending more time with him.  But he lived his life to the absolute fullest and I can honor him by trying to do the same.  I will take the trip I think I cannot afford.  I will take advantage of every opportunity made available to me.  And I will make the best of the worst situations.

It's what he would have done.