Home > life on the ground > My Favorite Uncle

My Favorite Uncle

April 14th, 2008 at 10:07 am

jay.jpg

No one told a better story. No one told a story better.

That’s my Uncle Jay, storyteller extrordinaire. I’d lean into the table in whatever restaurant we were in as he told stories of the characters and adventures in his life.

Jay married into the family, married my mom’s sister, Norma.

For the past 17 months, it was a three-way contest: cancer, chemo, or him.

The chemo won.

Jay was 69, I think.

For several weeks I’d had a trip scheduled to Arkansas to visit my mom, Aunt Norma and Uncle Jay. I almost didn’t go because Monday’s surgery had left me miserable. But on Thursday evening, I got a second wind and Dave and I left for the Arkansas hills.

Friday evening, we visited my aunt and uncle in their home. Jay sat in the recliner and was feeling pretty good, mixing his “nasty” chocolate Ensure with coffee, to dilute the sweetness.

He told stories, as usual. With the flooding in Arkansas, he talked about the time he took his boys on a canoe trip on a swollen Current River – and didn’t realize until they were downstream a bit – how dangerous the situation was. But at that point there was no getting off the water – they just had to ride it and hope for the best. “If one of those canoes had tipped over, there’s no way I could’ve saved any of us, the river was just too strong.”

Jay, a retired radiologist, often told wild stories from his days in a city hospital in Memphis – which had a rough clientele on a Saturday night. He and Norma love to laugh and to make others laugh, and at mealtime, those stories were always the laughing kind.

On Saturday night, Jay wasn’t feeling well and was transported to a hospital. When we left the hospital later, he seemed to be perking up a bit. But a call came in the morning that he wasn’t doing well. As we stepped into his hospital room Sunday morning, he turned his head and greeted us by name. About an hour or so later, he was gone.

It’s one thing to lose a favorite uncle, but my heart aches for my Aunt Norma, my cousins Cindy, Doug, Al and Dave. They have lost a husband, a father, a solid and steady cornerstone of the family foundation.

And the world has lost a good, kind man.

***

I have better photos, but the photo above is one I could easily find. It was taken last April.

My brother, Leon, wrote a nice tribute this morning: The River’s Way.

life on the ground

  1. heineken160
    April 14th, 2008 at 10:52 | #1

    Sorry, Cheryl. My sympathies to you and your family.

  2. Flips
    April 14th, 2008 at 12:05 | #2

    Sympathy to you & your Uncle’s family!
    Any one who has lost a family member or members in the fight with chemo & cancer know this too well——–
    I have tears splashing in my keyboard as I remember too many family members I have also lost to cancer & chemo also!

  3. April 14th, 2008 at 12:14 | #3

    He sounds like he was quite a man. I’m so glad he was part of your life, and your brothers. You both wrote so well of him. What a good legacy to leave behind. That’s the very best we can hope to achieve in this life.

    Janet

  4. April 14th, 2008 at 15:06 | #4

    I’m sorry for your family’s loss. What a blessing to have had him in your life. How fitting to have two wonderful stories to remember the life of a storyteller. I bet he would have liked that.

  5. April 14th, 2008 at 16:10 | #5

    Very sorry, Cheryl. I’m glad you made it to Arkansas this weekend.

  6. April 14th, 2008 at 17:11 | #6

    I, too, am so glad you were able to visit with your uncle and family this weekend. We are thinking of you and praying for you and your family. Onnalee

  7. Weeta
    April 14th, 2008 at 17:22 | #7

    Cheryl,
    You and your brother wrote such moving tributes to your Uncle Jay. He sounds like a wonderful man and a good storyteller is a real gem. The good memories y’all have of him will live on.
    God bless.

  8. April 14th, 2008 at 18:46 | #8

    Thank you, everyone. I’m sure gonna miss him. :-(

  9. mandafowler
    April 15th, 2008 at 07:31 | #9

    My thoughts and prayers are with you and you’re family.