Memorial For A Dear Uncle

Memorial For A Dear Uncle

I just received word that my Uncle Gerald (my Mother’s eldest brother) passed away last night.  When I talked to him last on his birthday June 10^th, I thought that he was 95 years old.  He corrected me to 96.

Uncle Gerald sounded very happy and well.  Robert, his son and my cousin (of course, he will always be Bobby to me) was visiting him; so, I got to have pleasant conversations with both. 

Uncle Gerald was a scholar, knowledgeable about a vast number of subjects and continued to learn on a daily basis; was a stamp collector; built fire engines; was quite an adventurer; loved Grandma’s (his Mother) homemade houska, and was a bit of a rebel.  And, he always had to be ‘right’ in any discussion. Now, that I am older, I understand this ‘right’ to be passion.

My Grandmother use to tell me the story of how, even when times were tough, she would always buy her son Hostess Twinkies because he was so thin.  She tried to fatten him up, but never could.  Uncle Gerald was always a slender man; he never seemed to gain a pound no matter his diet.

When I was growing up in Berwyn, Illinois; Uncle Gerald lived in the same town with his family.  Therefore, our families did many things together; so, I have many memories.  We celebrated every family member’s birthday, Christmas, Easter, and we spent several New Year’s Eves at his house partying and sleeping over (adults included) even though we lived a mere 15 minute drive from each other.  Our families had a lot of fun together.

Uncle Gerald introduced me to my first farm when, as a young girl, he took me to visit a farmer friend of his.  I, the city girl, acquired my first attachment to a kitten, cuddling it in my arms until it pooped on me.  I was done with that kitten.  Walking through the towering cornfields was exciting.  I fell in love with farming.  And, happily, I am living that dream today.

Uncle Gerald took us to the Art Institute of Chicago when his son Gerald J received an award for one of his original works of art. I did not much care for the geometric shape with a hole missing; but then, what did I know about art.   One afternoon, Uncle Gerald took me to the Chicago Planetarium to pick-up my cousin, Bobby.  He was constructing a telescope; or lens of some sort.  The interior darkness of the Planetarium was so mystical during the brightness of the day.  I was fascinated.

In later life, my Uncle and Aunt Olga visited Glenn and I during the time we lived in Wrangell, Alaska.  I am not much of a hostess, but I think they had a pleasing visit. They both really enjoyed the fresh salmon salad that I had prepared from our catch of the day.

My head is full of wonderful memories involving my dear Uncle Gerald…a great tribute, wouldn’t you say?

But, the best memory is that of my Mother and her love for her older brother.  That love never wavered.  I hope my Uncle and my Mother meet up and are enjoying each other again, along with their middle brother Al.

Farewell, dear Uncle Gerald.

Visiting Uncle Gerald at his home in Illinois - June 16, 2011
(my brother Robert, Me, Uncle Gerald, and his wife Adrienne)