Requiem For Uncle Dennis

While underemployed I received a call on a Wednesday morning. It was from my sister. As enjoyable as it is talking to her; if I call during business hours the exchange is brief.

If she called me during business hours it had to be something serious. She prefaced this with "I have some sad news." Is it necessary to say that? She opened the call when Precious the Cat ended her nearly twenty years in our lives that way. Let's go back.

Most visits with relatives were unfulfilling. If you like hearing people using the N word; many relatives spoke in epithets. There were a lot of angry people who scared me as a young child. Cousins were hit or miss. Either I was the babysitter or the babysat.

Until that trip to New Jersey. Uncle Dennis fathered one more child. We were invited to the baptism. Not only did this plant the seed of showing interest in a baby- this was one of the best visits to relatives up to that point.

Normally we stayed with old people whom my father grew up with. That could be good. Some of them had interesting dogs. There wasn't much for a child to do.

With cousins close enough in age I had a good time with Uncle Dennis's family. Relatives in Cleveland and Western Pennsylvania (my mother's side of the family) were not friendly in general. Visiting relatives was a lateral move.

Interestingly, after my sister was born better relatives moved to the forefront. They were always there. Did they want to meet a baby? Undoubtedly that has been covered.

I could do a Power of Five article on Uncle Dennis and his family. He teased like my father. It was not quite as malicious. Most of our visits were spent with Mark and Allison who were his older children.

Cream of the crop. Being the best cousins before them was like being valedictorian in summer school. Some cousins aggravated me and improved in later years. I would see them in this cycle.

Relatives did not visit us. Of all the bad habits picked up from my parents, I was willing to go to others who did not mind my presence. They never reciprocated. Since my parents moved out of their hometowns they returned and relatives rarely visited us if ever.

Going to others is a good course of action. It's that or nothing. As for bad habits from my parents: I would rather be willing to go to others than to smoke cigarettes or use the F word.

None of which has to do with relatives in the win column. After Christopher's christening- one of my all time favorite tongue twisters- this was the family I wanted to spend time with on New Jersey trips. My father leaned into an older couple whom he grew up with.

His father was drafted and his mother needed all the help she could get. One of her colleagues stepped up. It is interesting to think about women in the 1940's who held jobs. Everyone contributed to the war effort.

I would rather have spent the week with Uncle Dennis and his family. They usually came over for a cookout one day. From this time until the divorce- when it became too awkward to visit my father's side of the family- I kept up with this family.

Therapy jumped the shark not when my father abandoned his family. No, that therapist repeated I should spend "Quality time" with relatives. My quality time begins on January 1 and ends December 31. Implying time spent with relatives is more important than anything else began the waste of time and money that would never improve until I kicked the habit the therapy.

Like Stanley Kubrick movies- visits to Uncle Dennis and his family were sporadic. Every one was memorable. I never drove in New Jersey and felt the relatives were lost after the divorce.

My father cultivated a smear campaign that foreshadowed Fox News. Accurate or not- his accusations put my mother and myself on the defensive. This is probably why I don't want to publish my book where the divorce is described. Long story short- Marriage Story felt like a psychological horror movie after what was endured.

The next opportunity to visit New Jersey was my grandmother's funeral. I cultivated a better relationship with her. After the divorce she deteriorated and I did not visit her. People get older and there are not many happy endings.

This had no bearing on revisiting relatives. I was asked to go because my sister needed someone within forty years of her age. Remember- I was the child who was disregarded by adults. That caused me to take her at face value and support her in the way I was not.

If I dreaded revisiting relatives it went out the window when they actually saw me. They did not hold me to past sins (like my father did for life) and we caught up. It didn't matter that I did not go to college.

It didn't matter that I was making five dollars per hour at a comic store. It was a good job and I perpetuated a small business. It was a productive use of my time. As my first visit to my father's side since childhood- I noticed how short everyone was.

Adults always look tall. Towering over these adults- most looked the same except my father. He was the oldest in the family. And he looked it. Some men let their eyebrows grow every which way and think it is a good look.

Except for some white hair, Uncle Dennis looked the same. His son said he was responsible for that white hair. Perhaps. Mark probably created the little brother perception that has served me very well in male relationships. I never had a brother.

When my mother became pregnant, most adults thought she would have a boy. I looked forward to a little brother. It was not meant to be. Seeing relatives becomes fewer and further between.

I have attended as many weddings as The New York Giants have won Super Bowls. Dennis was a Giants season ticket holder. Eventually he gave up his seats because it was hard to find people to go to the games after his children were grown. I was never up there on a Sunday to attend a game in the Phil Simms/Lawrence Taylor era.

It was a highlight seeing Dennis at weddings. He always called out my father's punctuality and the lack thereof. My first rebellion against my father was getting ready on time. It was like growing up with Lauryn Hill as late as my father was for everything.

Which never made sense because he didn't have hair and makeup which are time consuming to prepare. He simply dawdled. By the next wedding I had my accident and in turn a better relationship with my father. It did not make relatives any better. They were good on their own.

By the time my sister married- quite possibly the last wedding I shall ever attend- I was told Uncle Dennis had "Very bad cancer" and would not be able to attend. I could not make his daughter's wedding. I had moved to Arizona and the wedding was in a part of New York not easy to get to. New York City has three inconvenient airports and it was one less opportunity to see relatives I enjoy.

Bringing me to that Wednesday morning. My grandfather had colon cancer and for fifteen of the first sixty months of my life he was sick. I barely recall him. He passed at sixty-five.

Uncle Dennis had a colonoscopy annually and to be on the safe side had another one every six months. In that brief window he contracted the disease. That is unfair. Life is unfair. So is cancer.

For anyone who aspires to "Go viral" this is the most reactions I ever had on social media. This happened soon before I was given the opportunity to write articles on LinkedIn. Be careful what you wish for as finding greater reach. From ten years ago today:

"There is no reason to fear death. My uncle who had cancer passed yesterday. He had regular checkups but cancer was discovered when it was too late to operate. Following the rules and losing anyway is one of the worst things in life but that falls away. It is better to recall his long marriage, the greatness of his children (I had some lame cousins so good ones are appreciated), good deeds, multiple entries in the New York Marathon and he was a Giants season ticket holder. That merely scratches the surface but I shall think of more before the drive to New Jersey on Monday."

I was going to share the comments. They are personal and of the "Sorry for your loss" variety. I have never feared death. That's another story. My father put me on death watch from an early age. I'll never know why.

My most recent trip to New Jersey was in the back seat of a newlywed's car. My sister's husband met some of these relatives for the first time. He was saddened by the entire affair. He cried. I did not.

The divorce killed my capacity to cry. I can feel sadness- more than I care to admit- and no tears fall. It resolves nothing. Never would I think less of someone who expresses themselves in this manner.

It was nice seeing relatives. Others have passed on since then. My Aunt said she did not want a funeral. I probably won't have a funeral. Some are shocked that I want to be cremated. That has no bearing on todays's events.

It feels like I did not properly pay tribute to Uncle Dennis. Very few people refer to him as I do. I never cared for the title and don't except my sister's children to refer to me that way.

The wake was filled with attorneys and golf buddies. Uncle Dennis was a New York attorney. He retired a little early because he wanted to be young enough to enjoy it. Who knows the future? I am a terrible golfer so I don't regret missing the chance to spend four hours with him on a golf course.

There always was a "What might have been" feel. Had we stayed in Somers Point where my parents bought their first house there would have been more opportunities to see them. I also would not know about self serve gas and would have waited until seventeen to receive a driver's license.

My father never shut up about how great New Jersey was. So why did he move? This event shaped my writing before I had the opportunity to write articles. I decided not to mention when my mother, father or sister passes away. I have a talent for giving eulogies. Such is the advantage of a strong memory.

It fascinated me that I might have dealt with Uncle Dennis and his family seven times in all those years. It was always good. You only need one good encounter to make a difference. Thank you, Dennis.