For my uncle...

When my son was born I received a gift that to this day I have never used.  It was a book filled with blank pages that were to be used to write a legacy as the instructions stated.  It was intended for me to be able to write the life story of my son.  To me a legacy is something that can’t be written until a life is over which is why I found it difficult to write something so important for someone who was still in the process of writing their own life story.  In a way it’s fitting that the gift that I haven’t used can now be used for the very same person who gifted it to me, my Uncle Michael.  

I never got to say goodbye to my uncle.  The last communication I had with him was through Words With Friends on my phone.  After beating him about 7 times in a row I decided to do a little trash talking.  “Who the hell is this?” he said.  Basically he thought he was being beat into submission repeatedly by some random person he never knew.  In typical Michael fashion he said that had he known it was me he would have tried harder to win.  Anyway, we talked briefly about life and he asked how the kids were, stuff like that.  That was it.  The only other communication I would have from him was when he liked a photo of mine on Facebook.  That was the day before he passed away.  His death has affected many people in many different ways.  For me, his death has served as more of a reminder of what he meant to me while living.  A reminder that quite honestly I needed more than ever.

My uncle provided me with many firsts in my life.  I remember going to Cape Cod as a kid with him and sitting in the back of his tiny little red car.  I probably heard the entire Wham! tape about 15 times on that trip.  That road trip was the first time I witnessed someone yell while flipping the bird at another driver.  Thankfully I couldn’t really hear the swear words over the sound of George Michael booming through the speakers.  A few years later he took me to my first concert.  It wasn’t because of who was playing.  I don’t think many nine year olds were huge fans of Robert Palmer or Belinda Carlisle (however after seeing her on stage I did become a fan, and not because of her singing.)  It was because he wanted me to experience new things in life.  He was always about introducing new things to me.  It was impossible to live a sheltered life having him as an uncle and for that I will always be grateful.  After I graduated high school and moved back to Connecticut we all took a road trip to Pennsylvania.  It was then that he introduced me to coffee.  Iced double vanilla latte with pure cane sugar, none of that plain regular sugar.  AS many of you know plain was not in my uncle’s vocabulary.  I must have had about three of them.   Now at least I know who I can thank my caffeine addiction on.   As an adult the experiences he introduced to me were on a much different level.  Once he opened up to who he really was and let his true self shine is when I really started to learn about life and how living is more than just breathing. 

My uncle did more than live life to the beat of his own drum, he lived to the beat of his own symphony.  If he decided he wanted to live in California he wouldn’t just talk about it like most of us do, he would just do it.  When he got sick of it he’d change things up.  No hesitation.  Just doing whatever he felt would make him happy.  While some of us wear our emotions on our sleeves, his emotions were worn on his entire “ensemble” as he would call it.  He never hesitated to rush in for a hug or a kiss on the cheek.  At family functions, he was always the first at the door to greet you.  His hugs were not of the generic quick hug variety.  His hugs meant it.  You could really feel his hugs.  After that however all bets were off.  A hug was usually followed by a quick survey of your personal space followed with a “where’d you get THAT shirt,” or some other snippy comment.  I’d naturally give some kind of witty response which nearly always triggered the roll.  The roll is what I called his rolling of the eyes. 

If you had an eye rolling contest he would be the undisputed champ.  It involved almost every part of his body.  Head would roll, shoulders would roll, and eyes would really roll.  Along with this would come the most sarcastic sigh you would ever witness.  It made me laugh every time.  The best was when him and my aunt would be having some sort of sibling battle and after he got his last words in he would turn to away and I’d get a nice full view of the eye roll.  It still makes me laugh thinking about it.  I know anyone who knew him knows exactly what I’m talking about. 

Never afraid to voice his thoughts or opinions, my uncle would let you know exactly how he saw things.  Some people may have gotten offended or upset but for the most part it was things that they needed to hear.  Many times when I was dealing with hard time I would go to him for advice.  Not only because I wanted to get things off my chest, but I also knew that he wouldn’t sugar coat things or tell me what I wanted to hear.  If I was being stupid, he’d tell me.  If I was afraid to do something, he would try to give me the courage to just do it.  Sometimes I listened other times I was just too stubborn to understand that he was right.  He wasn’t just this way towards me.  He was just that kind of a person.  There wasn’t anything you couldn’t talk to him about.  He had a way of making you feel comfortable discussing pretty much anything.  He helped me with a lot of tough decisions and helped steer me in the right direction whenever I was facing hard times.  For example, when I was going through a tough breakup, he took me out for a drink and basically told me to “get the f over it and move on already.”  I never said he put things delicately, but for me it was better that way.  It was who he was and for that I am thankful.

Over the last few years I have kind of lost that closeness that I once had with my uncle.  We didn’t talk nearly as often as we used to and usually only saw each other on the holidays.  I wish I had more time with him as I am sure all of you who knew him do too.  I didn’t go to his funeral so I never had the chance to say my final goodbye.  His life still has such a strong influence on the person I try to be and the way I try to live that I don’t think I can say goodbye.

My uncle left more than just memories with all of us who knew him.  He changed us.  Maybe for some of us it was something small but for others he helped shape who we are today.  And he did all this just by being Michael.  To me, that is what leaving a legacy all is about.

Uncle Michael, I miss you and will always love you.  I could never begin to thank you for everything you have shared with me in your life.  I find comfort in knowing that when I look up through the clouds I know you are up there pulling for me to persevere in all I do.  Whether you like it or not, I’m still going to talk your ear off so get comfortable, grab a cup of coffee, and roll your eyes all you want.