I'm looking forward to spending the weekend with my kids. Little time to write. But having just begun to post, again, I don't want you to think I've disappeared, again. So here is something that I hope will warm your heart until I warm up to adventuring through high school with you ...
Having been swept into my husband’s family while I was still inhigh school, his aunts, uncles and cousins became mine. Uncle Sam was everyone’sfavorite uncle (sadly, we lost him recently). Uncle Lou was calledthe ‘Mean Uncle’, and upon meeting Lou at seventeen, he scared the holysmokes out of me. After giving me the once over, he turnedseventeen-year old me around and told Will he wasn’t sure if I was a keeper... one day I’d have a fat -ss. At family gatherings, every Friday night,I’d cling to Uncle Sam and stay clear of Lou. As Will reassured me thatLou had a heart of gold, I figured he’d locked it in a vault. Uncle Lou lived in two cities. Five days, selling insurance in Grand Rapids, weekends in Skokie withAunt Helen and their kids. You’dthink I’d write lots more about Sam, sweetheart that he was, but if Sam won myheart, Lou grabbed my mind. Anyway, Lou had diabetes. Sadly, helost one leg. Then the other. Once we all went to a restaurant andwaited so long to be seated that he called the hostess over and growled: How much longer are you going to make us wait—I’ve already eaten bothmy legs. She turned purple and shrunk up like a prune along with me. As opposites attract, Uncles Sam and Lou were great buds. And guesswhat their favorite weekend pastime was? Stripe bass, Croppies/crappies(sp?) and an out board motor on Pistakee Bay. At one time or another, each of the cousins accompanied them—including me. What to do with a girl in aboat, with three guys and a pee can? Try to improve her aim? Insist thatshe hold it all day? Tease her all the way to wherever an outhouse might befound? The uncles pick up Will and me at 4AM. Where did I sleep? Withmy boyfriend’s mom. Stop for coffee and donuts and the adventure ison. As my Dad had been my best friend, I am game for pretty much anything these guys can throw and have a ball—while trying to stay clear of Lou’s sarcastic eye. Once the outhouse is found I feel relieved and scamper back into theboat, sit down and watch Uncle Sam, one leg in the boat, the other pushing off from thedock. For some reason this great guy, who is all heart, loses hisbalance, and—you know what happens next. You also know who takes theblame—cause had the pita aimed for the can, no one would have ended up all wet. Over the years, all of our kids went fishing with the uncles, and as the story goes, Barry and Steven threw more fish at each other than either one caught. Unlike ourcompetitive sons, the uncles were brothers-in-law, so, weekend after weekend,they got along just fine.
Another story comes to mind. Theuncles are fishing with our cousin Allen (a fly fisherman, today) and though Will had planned to join them, something comes up at the hospital, and he mustdecline. Later that day, Uncle Sam calls. Go look outside yourkitchen door. By now we live on the third floor in Grandville Gardens onHoyne near Devon. About fifty fish are strung all over our screen door. It is, Saturday, July 3rd. I remember, because my mother-in-law has had everyone over for the 4th. On Sunday, we are gathered in Mom’s back yard when I tellUncle Sam to relax and let me make his lunch. Taking his plate from myhands, he thanks for me and looks at two great big fat sandwiches on rye withmustard, pickle, tomato, and lettuce not quite covering a pair of fish eyes. Being allergic to fish, especially raw fish, Uncle Sam was not inclined to eat Sushi, prepared by me. On the other hand, Uncle Sam is always as ready to laugh as we are ready to join in. Later that evening, we call Uncle Sam and suggest that he walk down thestairs and collect his mail in the foyer of his apartment complex. Whatdoes he find trying to swim into his mailbox by special delivery? A big fat fish, trying to squeeze in tail first. It’sa hot night. Everyone’s window air conditioners are going full blast. For some strange reason, something smells fishy in every corner of Uncle Sam’sfirst floor bedroom throughout the night. Being allergic, Uncle Sam always brings thefish he catches to the home for the blind. Thoughthere were lots of cousins. Uncle Sam made me feel like his special girl forfifty years. I’ll bet we all feltthat way. In his dotage, we flew him, along with Aunty Gerty, to staywith us Phoenix while the other aunts and uncles tried to figure out why we’dfavored them with such a special treat. We’d never forgotten what UncleSam had done when our eldest son, Barry was born in California. Upon calling Aunt Gerty inChicago, to share our joy, we asked to speak with Uncle Sam, and here iswhat we heard: He can’t come to the phone, right now. Oh—disappointment—forty-three years ago long distant calls wereexpensive and reserved for once in a while. Okay. When shall wecall back? Not for a week. A week? Where is he? He’s ona train. On a train? Going where? To California to welcome Barry into the fold. Uncle Sam's good natured heart often made me laugh. That night hemade me cry. Will, too. On a train, because he couldn’t afford aplane. On a train to L.A. because he didn’t know that that train passed rightby the station in San Bernadino, which is near Redlands, where we lived while Will was in The Air Force at March—where Barry had just been born—funny storiesabout giving birth in an air force hospital, where I pretty much looked after myself—to my mother’s consternation. And being that I was a patient in Will’s hospital, no princess was going to ask for special favors—that’s for sure! On a train because Sam had a heart of gold. Anyway, we drove along side that train for two hours, clickity-clack, untilit pulled into the station in L.A. And after collecting Uncle Sam close to ourhearts, he and we, with babe in arms, drove parallel to those train tracks,again, two hours home. Needless to say, Uncle Sam flew home. Some people are family. Some are the family's treasure. Uncle Samwas one of my all time favorite guys—not just because he’d ‘adopted’ Will ashis third son after my husband’s father died. Not just because Will worked along side him on his truck, summers. Not just because Sam came outto watch Wiill play ball. Not just because I’d melt each time Sam smiled and said, Annie, you are my heart.” But because, when it came to hearts ofgold, Uncle Sam always wore his on his sleeve, and he is trulymissed by one and all. Severalyears ago, we were at a family wedding in Chicago. Barry and Steven werekibitzing with Sam. After a few minutes Sam saw a young man, whom he tookto be a friend of our sons, sauntering up to join in their conversation, sobeing a friendly guy, he smiled, stuck out his hand and introduced himself,saying hello, I’m Barry’s and Steven’s Uncle Sam. The young man, took holdof the older man’s hand and said, Glad to meet you. You’re my uncle Sam,too. I’m David. Sam was flabbergasted and we were hysterical, just aswe are whenever one of us relates this story, again. Uncle Sam hadn’tseen David for about three years, and during that time, our youngest son hadgrown from boyhood to manhood. From that time on, David would walk up toSam, hold out his hand and introduce himself as one of Barry’s and Steven’sfriends—then they’d laugh and bear hug. I never wrote these stories,before. From beginning to end, my smile has been running as deep as thebay ... I love telling stories to you...thank you for asking for more. I'm also glad to be back. I've missed spending time with you. :)
Another story comes to mind. Theuncles are fishing with our cousin Allen (a fly fisherman, today) and though Will had planned to join them, something comes up at the hospital, and he mustdecline. Later that day, Uncle Sam calls. Go look outside yourkitchen door. By now we live on the third floor in Grandville Gardens onHoyne near Devon. About fifty fish are strung all over our screen door. It is, Saturday, July 3rd. I remember, because my mother-in-law has had everyone over for the 4th. On Sunday, we are gathered in Mom’s back yard when I tellUncle Sam to relax and let me make his lunch. Taking his plate from myhands, he thanks for me and looks at two great big fat sandwiches on rye withmustard, pickle, tomato, and lettuce not quite covering a pair of fish eyes. Being allergic to fish, especially raw fish, Uncle Sam was not inclined to eat Sushi, prepared by me. On the other hand, Uncle Sam is always as ready to laugh as we are ready to join in. Later that evening, we call Uncle Sam and suggest that he walk down thestairs and collect his mail in the foyer of his apartment complex. Whatdoes he find trying to swim into his mailbox by special delivery? A big fat fish, trying to squeeze in tail first. It’sa hot night. Everyone’s window air conditioners are going full blast. For some strange reason, something smells fishy in every corner of Uncle Sam’sfirst floor bedroom throughout the night. Being allergic, Uncle Sam always brings thefish he catches to the home for the blind. Thoughthere were lots of cousins. Uncle Sam made me feel like his special girl forfifty years. I’ll bet we all feltthat way. In his dotage, we flew him, along with Aunty Gerty, to staywith us Phoenix while the other aunts and uncles tried to figure out why we’dfavored them with such a special treat. We’d never forgotten what UncleSam had done when our eldest son, Barry was born in California. Upon calling Aunt Gerty inChicago, to share our joy, we asked to speak with Uncle Sam, and here iswhat we heard: He can’t come to the phone, right now. Oh—disappointment—forty-three years ago long distant calls wereexpensive and reserved for once in a while. Okay. When shall wecall back? Not for a week. A week? Where is he? He’s ona train. On a train? Going where? To California to welcome Barry into the fold. Uncle Sam's good natured heart often made me laugh. That night hemade me cry. Will, too. On a train, because he couldn’t afford aplane. On a train to L.A. because he didn’t know that that train passed rightby the station in San Bernadino, which is near Redlands, where we lived while Will was in The Air Force at March—where Barry had just been born—funny storiesabout giving birth in an air force hospital, where I pretty much looked after myself—to my mother’s consternation. And being that I was a patient in Will’s hospital, no princess was going to ask for special favors—that’s for sure! On a train because Sam had a heart of gold. Anyway, we drove along side that train for two hours, clickity-clack, untilit pulled into the station in L.A. And after collecting Uncle Sam close to ourhearts, he and we, with babe in arms, drove parallel to those train tracks,again, two hours home. Needless to say, Uncle Sam flew home. Some people are family. Some are the family's treasure. Uncle Samwas one of my all time favorite guys—not just because he’d ‘adopted’ Will ashis third son after my husband’s father died. Not just because Will worked along side him on his truck, summers. Not just because Sam came outto watch Wiill play ball. Not just because I’d melt each time Sam smiled and said, Annie, you are my heart.” But because, when it came to hearts ofgold, Uncle Sam always wore his on his sleeve, and he is trulymissed by one and all. Severalyears ago, we were at a family wedding in Chicago. Barry and Steven werekibitzing with Sam. After a few minutes Sam saw a young man, whom he tookto be a friend of our sons, sauntering up to join in their conversation, sobeing a friendly guy, he smiled, stuck out his hand and introduced himself,saying hello, I’m Barry’s and Steven’s Uncle Sam. The young man, took holdof the older man’s hand and said, Glad to meet you. You’re my uncle Sam,too. I’m David. Sam was flabbergasted and we were hysterical, just aswe are whenever one of us relates this story, again. Uncle Sam hadn’tseen David for about three years, and during that time, our youngest son hadgrown from boyhood to manhood. From that time on, David would walk up toSam, hold out his hand and introduce himself as one of Barry’s and Steven’sfriends—then they’d laugh and bear hug. I never wrote these stories,before. From beginning to end, my smile has been running as deep as thebay ... I love telling stories to you...thank you for asking for more. I'm also glad to be back. I've missed spending time with you. :)
Your friend,
Annie
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