I’m writing this post on a Sunday, for Tuesday.
I’m hoping I have very good news to share by Tuesday. My Uncle Frank is fighting for his life. He’s in the ICU in Denver, and good days and bad days are taking turns. He seems to be fighting through COVID-19, and I’m finding myself willing any strength I have to him.
I’m still hoping for the best for a man who influenced my life in incredible ways.
Uncle Frank is my buddy and hero. I was an awkward kid who could find a rare place to belong, at his side. He shared my enthusiasm for dinosaurs and Star Wars back then, and it occurred to me until this very moment that he probably felt enthusiastic because I did.
He picked me up in the wee hours of February 28, 1975, when my mom went into labor.
I woke up in his car and we watched the sun rise as we drove to my grandma’s. I remember like it was yesterday pointing out a cloud that looked just like an alligator. He could see it too! He could always see what I saw.
The coolest uncle
Uncle Frank is the coolest.
He introduced me to the coolest music, from Boz Skaggs to the Alan Parsons Project. When I was a kid, he was as cool as the Pink Panther and drove the coolest car I’d ever seen. It was way more than that, though.
I knew in him my most tangible example of unconditional love then, and for a lifetime.
I’d love to send Uncle Frank my strength. I know he has tons of his own. He’s a kindred spirit. Recently, we’d begun texting, and I promised to call him to catch up soon. I hadn’t yet. That weighs on me heavily, but it’s nothing compared to my hope.
My hope that I’ll soon get that chance to catch up with Uncle Frank, remind him how much he means to me, and make lousy excuses about being so damned busy to have made that call yet.
Do you have someone you should call? Do it, today, would you? I let the old job get in the way and then I let the new job get in the way and there were so many days in my day pajamas I could have taken a breather and give my Uncle Frank a call.
He’s my purest supporter and no way could I ever be the man I am today without him – and I can’t wait to tell him that again.
E is for End-of-your-career awards