I've debated about writing this, but I'm sure you all can grant me a bit of free speech, no? The holidays are coming up and I miss my uncle something fierce. Some know, but many do not that my parents died when I was young. My mother died when I was eight, my father died when I was 13. It was a poor stroke of luck. I moved from Pittsburgh to Atlanta to live with my uncle, my mother's brother. He was a life long bachelor. The road was bumpy, but well loved. The following is a letter from me to Uncle T.
My dearest Uncle T,
My first memory of you involves M&Ms. You were so tall and so big, I ran and hid behind Mom. You eventually won me over with the M's and a chocolate Easter bunny. I remember telling my mom "he's nice, he gave me chocolate". Little did I know that you change my life.
I came to you after a stormy five years between parents. I was desperate for calm waters, and you were exactly that. I needed comforting, calm, quiet. You were so generous and kind, I didn't know how to deal with that. You loved me without expecting anything back, just like a parent should. When I screwed up-let's be honest, it was a lot- you were firm, but never, ever mean. When you saw that I was struggling, you stopped traveling for me. FOR ME. You probably could've gotten a lot further in your career had you taken all of those road trips.
Remember my first prom? You said I couldn't have that super pretty dress because all the boys would look at me and you would go to jail, but you bought it anyway. Remember teaching me how to drive...yeah, I'm sorry about those scratches on the Caddy. That's what you get for parking out in the driveway, though. I still can't back up well, thanks. Oh, and remember the neighbor that said my friends and I were driving through his yard? He shouldn't have lived on that wicked bend, that's his fault. And really, when he put that rock there it just gave us an obstacle course.
When I just HAD to leave home and be on my own, you never made me stay. You encouraged me to get out and stand on my own feet, but you always had your door open. I was always welcome to come home. Then I met Andrew and you just scared him to death. I think he threw up every day of that vacation. When we got married, you were so proud to walk me down the aisle. You almost seemed surprised that I asked you, but really. You were my father, how could I not give you that honor? The letter you wrote after our wedding, I wish I had kept it. It makes me cry today. To hear that you were proud of me, that I had done well in your eyes. That meant the world.
Now that you're gone, I feel like a ship without its compass. I have no direction. I know I am loved by many, but I can no longer feel YOUR love and that's what I want. I belonged with you, but now I don't belong. I guess it's all about adjusting, just like you said. I can hear your voice, you tell me to relax, it'll be ok. Or you say my favorite line, just keep plugging away. I miss you more than I could ever put into words. Sometimes I call your phone, just to hear your voice on the voicemail message. Remember the terrible towel you bought me during our last trip to Pittsburgh? I sleep with that, just to have you near me.
To say thank you for taking a crazy 13 year old in would just not do it justice. You changed my life. You made the person I am today. I love you. I miss you. Until we meet again, T. D. There is no crying in baseball.
