Tuesday, September 13, 2011


This will not be funny.  Sorry.  Earlier today I was starting to put together a funny post but in light of this evening's events, I've opted for something of a more serious nature.

My uncle died on September 1st.  He was only 49 when he died.  His death was not entirely unexpected but that doesn't make it any easier and I'm sure anyone who's lost anyone can attest to this.

My uncle was a quadriplegic and had been for nearly 30 years at the time of his death.

For those of you who don't know what that means, it means he was paralyzed from the neck down.  Actually, he did have some range of motion in his shoulders so he could operate his power chair, feed himself, type, etc.  However, for many people this would not have been enough.  This would have given them every excuse to be a bitter hateful and angry person.

Steve was the opposite of all of these things.

There is nobody I tried harder to be funnier around and secretly swelled with pride when something I said did make him laugh.   He was so fucking funny.  He was smart.  We took one University class together and it was another of the proudest moments of my life.  I kept up with him in class and took great delight in this.  Not out of competitive spirit, well maybe a little, but mostly out of pride and the sheer desire to make him proud of me.

And I know that he was because he told me.

This was a man who rarely had a negative word for anyone unless they truly deserved it and in the end he usually could find something good about absolutely anyone.  When I think of how negative and critical I often am, it makes me feel badly that I'm not as generous in spirit as he was.

Music makes our world go round in this house and that is due to two people, my mother and Steve.  Steve bought me my first record-Michael Jackson's Thriller.  He bought me cassette tapes for my birthday and gritted his teeth when I chose Milli Vanilli and agreed only to buy it if I got Belinda Carlisle as well.

He was a better writer than I can ever hope to be, which is clearly evidenced by this post.  Thanks for bearing with me through my memories.

Our family is not functional and we don't even come close to putting the "fun in dysfunctional".  There is nothing fun about it.  Especially this evening.

There is only hate and pettiness and hurt.

These are words I would never associate with Steve but tonight, someone else chose to invoke those exact sentiments with their words.

I miss my uncle terribly.  Heartbreakingly so.  Today though, I had a better day.  I started to feel like life was resuming some normalcy.  And not thirty minutes ago I sat in front of this very computer vibrating with anger.

It was one of those moments where I was tempted to use my phrase: "I hate people".  Something, again, Steve wouldn't say but tonight, it's how I felt.  Only people work as hard to hurt one another as badly as possible and in this case, as publicly as possible.

To do that right now though, when maybe our best has been lost?  Is beyond my comprehension.

All I can do is my best not to do that.  At anytime.  Unless called for...

We all remember my penchant for mafia and retaliation, right?

If not, I once was delighted to receive my very own limited edition of Scarface for Christmas from my husband, then another Christmas it was The Godfather Trilogy.  I loved the Sopranos and now I have a club of motorcycle enthusiasts after my own heart in Charming (Sons of Anarchy, keep up, won't you?)  Bottom line is, while I do not endorse the murder or any other illegal activities, I do endorse protecting your own and making those who hurt yours, pay.  I'm not going to shank anyone or anything like that.  I've always been much better with words.  And words, I will use and with more effect, style and strength than he could ever hope to.

In closing, I choose to believe in Heaven.  A Heaven where Steve walks and runs and dances to all the greatest music this world has to offer.  He is up there having a great time with my uncles Ken and Doug.  And I'd be lying if I didn't say I'm even a little jealous because he gets to be with his dad, my Grandpa, again.  Losing Steve has only been second to losing my Grandpa for me and now they are together.  Trying to outdo one another with their humour, wit and maybe even playing some dirty pool.  I would say may the best man win, but in this case it can only ever be a tie.