Saturday, March 7, 2009

Oobie Goobie

This is my uncle Don.  When my siblings and I were growing up, Don had this phrase he would say.  He would say a word and then we would repeat it.  The point was - no laughing was aloud.  Don would look at us and say "Repeat after me, Oobie, Goobie, Gobby, Mombo, Cha Cha Cha!"  We were always smiling by the end, but he would usually add "...and NO SMILING!" to the end to send us into a pure fit of giggles.  


Don died a year ago.  After a long battle of many health problems.

My sister wrote the most wonderful post about him.  You should read it - I could never ever do it, or him,  justice.  She does a really great job of capturing who my wonderful uncle was.  If you have the time please read it -  It's here.

I thought I would share a few of my memories about this day last year.  Don had been sick for a while, in and out of the hospital for years.  I think when somebody first told me that "Don may not win this one" I'm not sure I believed them.  Things worsened, and when I heard that the family was gathering to be there with him during his final hours - I was...torn.  

My entire family was gathering around his hospital bed - singing, telling jokes, I believe there may even have been some dancing and dressing up in hospital gowns?  They were there enjoying the fellowship that my family does so well - and I was here - 1500 miles away.  I wanted to be there and at the same time, I wondered if I would have been able to handle it.  Maybe it was better that I was here.  Maybe it wasn't.  I was torn.

I was driving to Target when my family called to let me talk to Don on the phone.  He couldn't talk to me, but I had a chance to speak to him.  I remember telling myself  "be strong, be strong"  I told him that I wished I were there - that I was sorry I wasn't. And I told him that I loved him - That I loved him so very much.   I don't remember the rest of what I said - because I was telling myself "be strong, sound strong - he needs you to be brave, not scared"

It wasn't long after that that my sister texted me.  "He's gone."

I pulled over into a parking lot - in front of a Friendly's (something like a cross between Denny's and Dairy Queen)  I sat in my car and cried.  By myself.  When I ran out of tears, I just sat in my car.  It was pouring rain.  Like in a movie.  I was thankful- because I knew nobody could see me or hear me through the rain on my windshield.  I sat there until the rain let up.  Then, I thought about what I wanted to do.  I decided I needed ice cream.  Childish, maybe.  Comforting, yes.  

So, I walk into the place, and stand at the counter.  My eyes are red, my face is puffy, my hair is wet from the rain -as are my socks.  An overly cheerful clerk came to the counter and asked me "How are you doing today, miss?"  

What was I supposed to say?  "fine?"  I wasn't fine.  I attempted a weak and polite smile, and waited for him to take my order.  But he didn't.  He asked me instead, "Are you having a good day miss?"  I just looked at him for a second. Then I said, "My uncle just died.  I'm 1500 miles away.  I'd like some ice cream please"  

He gave it to me for free. 

Fast forward a little bit.  I flew home.  I cannot imagine not coming home.  Kyle and I were mostly silent on the ride down.  When we arrived, we busied ourselves with preparations and reminiscing with the family.  I feel like the whole time I was down there, I had a running record in my head that was constantly saying "be strong, be the strong one, they need you to be strong"

During the memorial service I had that record playing full blast. I know now that it is a silly roll to try to play.  But at that moment, I didn't want to be the one to cry- I felt I needed to be composed so that others could cry.  I needed to be the support - a pillar.  I'm sure I didn't succeed, but I tried.

I soaked up every hug I could with my family.  I remember giving Y (Don's wife) a hug, kissing her head and telling her I loved her.  She told me to cherish my days with Kyle.  Y, I promise I always will. 

I had to go back to Boston too soon.  Kyle and I got ready to fly home.  When they closed the cabin door on our plane, I let myself finally be sad.  I put my head down and sobbed.  I cried, silently, the entire way to our connecting city.  I had held it in all along, and now it flooded out of me.  

When I was composed enough to lift my head out of my folded arms, this is what I saw:



That's the sunset I saw.  It was so, so peaceful.  I could not help but be reminded that below those clouds, cities were being rained on - they couldn't see the sun.  But here, above the clouds, everything was peaceful, beautiful and quiet.  I told myself that Don sent that sunset to remind me of that.  He had a very hard time the last few years of his life - now he was free. He was above all the clouds now.  I carry this picture with me everyday.  

I remember giving a long slow sigh, tilting my head on Kyle's shoulder, and falling asleep. 

I miss Don.  I miss him a lot when I think that Abigail never knew him.  I like to think Don can see her and is watching over her.  

Like I said earlier, Don was an amazing person and a great uncle.  I'll always miss him, but I am thankful for all the fond memories I carry with me. 




2 comments:

jennybee said...

That was simply beautiful. I'd never heard your version of it before, or not much of it. You were very strong then, and practical, helpful, always have been. But it's ok not to be, too, sometimes.

Michael better be practicing his oobie goobie uncle-ing. That's gotta go on.

Love you bunches. Big bear hug.

Heather said...

Oh thanks! You are totally right about the macro-whatever! LOL I guess I didn't read the manual very well.

:)

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