THAT GREAT REUNION DAY

Both of my sisters,  Dianne and Terri,  tell me I'm their favorite brother.  It's nice to be the favorite.  Of course it was easy for them to make this decision being I'm their only brother.  If there are more than one of anything it's hard to pick a favorite, especially when it comes to people.  Take best friends for instance.  I've had many best friends in the past and even  with my years of experience it's hard to name a favorite best friend.  And when it comes to family,  it's even harder.  When we think of  all our family members each has that one thing or characteristic that makes them the favorite in a certain category.

Both my Mom and Dad have large families by today's standards.  In my mind, I don't have uncles and aunts by blood or marriage.  They are all aunts and uncles.  No in-laws here.  I believe that's because I was raised to think of family that way.  I'm grateful for that mindset.  As I said Mom and Dad came from large families and to my way of thinking I have a bunch,  and I mean a bunch of aunts and uncles.   Most of my aunts and all of my uncles have gone to be with the Lord.  As I stated in an earlier post,  I haven't lost them,  I know where they are.   I have never met my Uncle Harold, as he died before I was born, but have heard many stories about him so I'm excited about meeting him when I get to heaven.  Uncle Harold was married to a lady named Naomi.  At one time, on my 4th birthday, she was my favorite Aunt.   She showed up at our house with an electric train for me and immediately went to the top of my favorites list.  All of my Aunts and Uncles sit atop a favorite list in one category or another.

One of my Uncles sets atop the favorite list of the funest to be around.  Oh i know funest isn't a word but it sounds like a word he would use.  Have you ever been around someone that was always happy and therefore made you happy?  That was this uncle.  He had some hard times in his life.  His health wasn't the best.  The only reason I know these things is because my Mom told me.  He would have never let you know he was hurting or when things weren't going well.  When you were around him,  you were the most important person in the world,and he was going to make sure you had  a good time.   And stories,  I've never seen a man with so many stories.  If he had put his stories into a book, no doubt he would have been a rich man.  He was always pulling pranks on people or saying something that would, as we use to say "get your goat."  And he was always the same.  Made no difference if you were a preacher, president of the bank or the town drunk.  He treated everyone the same.  One time I was working with him at his store.  You never worked for him, you always worked with him.  We were standing around talking and listening to his tall tales when a man walked up to the counter to buy a loaf of bread.  After the man had paid for the bread,  we went back to talking when the man that had bought the bread interrupted and asked for a paper bag to put his bread in.  My uncle proceeded to tell the man the bread was already in a bag.  It was in a plastic bag he explained,  came from the bakery that way, and continued to tell the man how superior the plastic bag was to the paper bags he had.  The man told my uncle he just wanted a paper bag to put the bread in,  he had paid for the bread and now he wanted a paper bag to carry it.  My uncle said " Well,  if that's what you really want"  and then proceeded to undo the twist tie and dump the loaf of bread in the paper bag, take the plastic bag and put it under the counter, and picked up the story he had been telling  without missing a beat.  I almost fell off my chair.

Another time my Mom and Dad and this Uncle and Aunt decided to take a vacation together.  Mom said as they were riding down the rode the most awful odor she had ever smelled filled the car.  When she could stand the odor no longer she turned to my Uncle as asked him  "Did you just pass gas?"  to which he replied, "Of course I did, surely you don't think I always smell like this do you?"  Of course his language was a bit more colorful.

As I started writing this and the memories of times spent with and stories told by this man flooded my mind,  I really believe I could write a book of nothing but him.  He wasn't only funny.  He wasn't only a prankster.  There was a very sensitive side to this man also.  There was the side that loved his wife so much.  The side that showed the pride and love of and for his children.  This man was very special to so many people.

I miss my Uncle C. W.