Uncle Ray

This post won’t be the normal, lighthearted, silly post that I typically do. This one’s about family, about life, and death.

My Uncle Ray died last night. He’d suffered from pancreatic cancer for a while, and along with that, the effects of his illness as well as the effects of his chemo and other treatments. Of course, he’s in a better place and we’re glad for that. But it doesn’t really take away the emptiness we are feeling.

Uncle Ray always reminded me so much of my dad. They were just slightly altered versions of each other in my eyes. My dad was coat and tie Uncle Ray was blue jeans and boots. My dad was thick southern accent and Uncle Ray was thicker southern accent. But they were both funny with the same sense of humor, and sweeter than you'd imagine either of them to be. We’ve spent so many Thanksgivings together that when we didn’t, I missed Ray and his family more than I expected to. I have so many mundane, yet very specific, memories of time spent with Ray and his family. I remember Ray talking about castrating a bull at the dinner table once. I thought it was hysterical. I remember the sounds and smells of my mom and Aunt Nancy in the kitchen making Thanksgiving dinner…chopping, slicing, wrapping, baking, stirring, while my cousin Julie and I dressed in sheets and other costumes and pretended to be pilgrims with our pilgrim baby dolls. I remember Uncle Ray handing me a kitten at his house, one that his cat birthed, and I held the kitten like a baby and stroked his chin till he fell asleep. I remember his house in Garland, and their Irish Setter, Lady. Actually, it was so long ago, I might have just assumed ALL dogs were Irish Setters, since we had one. I remember their "Don't pee in our pool, we don't swim in your toilet" sign was the first I'd seen of it's kind and I thought it was brilliant!

While I am torn up about the loss of my uncle, what I cannot get over right now, is the sadness and the tears that come to my eyes when I think about my Aunt Nancy and my cousins Julie and Sherri. I am so glad they were able to be with their husband and dad when he died. And of course, I know they’re going to be okay but I wish to God they didn’t have to go through this.

The loss of Uncle Ray is one of the very few that I have experienced as an adult. His death has been painful to so many of us, and yet, it has also made me so grateful. I am so thankful that my dad had a brother he was close to and that he loved so much, and that my mother, sisters and I loved. Family is so important to me. I can’t even begin to express my gratitude about how close my sisters and I are. Knowing how my dad was able to joke around with Uncle Ray while he was not even conscious and raise his pulse made me think of my sisters. We do argue, but hardly ever. And once we’re over it, we’re over it.

So, Aunt Nancy, Julie, Sherri – I am so sorry for what you’re having to do. I am glad Ray had so many people who loved him. I wish you didn’t have to hurt. Dad, I am sorry you lost your brother. I love you so much.

I am so grateful for my family right now. Times like these make you re-think your priorities. I love you, Uncle Ray. I will miss you forever… especially on Thanksgivings.

Confidence

It's interesting to me how much more confidence I have now that I am older. I mean, now that I have lived a few years, I have wrinkles, I am in worse shape, and while I DO know more now, I sure thought I knew it all then. So...why was I so unsure of myself? Why was I afraid to speak up in certain situations? Why did I let so many idiot dudes (IDIOT DUDES) walk all over me? I don't know. But I like the confidence of being older. I guess I realized that the thing I thought mattered back then TOTALLY don't. It will not affect my life for the checker at 7-11 to see me without makeup. It won't hurt me if I forget to make a deposit and one of my debit card doesnt work at the store, in front of a lot of people. I mean - *I* know I have the money, I know it'll be okay, and none of those people are ever, ever going to think about what just happened again. As long as I have backup payment methods, I just really don't care.

This confidence allowed me to save about five bucks yesterday! I took James to get a reward for not waking us up once for the last 7 nights. To those who don't know, this is HUGE for us. We haven't slept in forever. Anyway he took about an hour looking up and down the aisles at the store, up and down, up and down. He finally settled on a Spongebob Operation game. Cool! We went to the checkout and the guy couldn't get the game to scan. "That was on sale for 13.99 if that helps," I said. He finally keyed the code in manually and the price popped up. I happened to glance up at it and saw that it had registerd for over 18 dollars! "Oh, no," I told the guy, "I don't know why it's ringing up like that, but it' IS definitely 13.99." (See, right there, I saved myself 5 bucks, where, when I was 19, I'd have said nothing because I wouldn't have wanted to call attention to myself or argue with a cashier.) Luckily, this guy didn't argue, he just entered in some code and then put in the price. SCORE!!

Today we went to the same store to look around. James LOVES to just spend tons of time wandering around looking at toys. "MOMMY. COOL. LOOK. AWESOME." And he knows all the names of all the guys. "Look, Mom, it's HoodenHeedenFeeferFloffy from Roliodeeparkenstarken." All was fun and games till we walked by the Spongebob Operation game, parked a few feet away from the Spongebob Connect Four, and I realized that I had stolen nearly five dollars the day before. It was the stupid Connect Four game that was on sale.

So.

Being the honest person that I am, I pondered what I should do about the situation. And then, I honestly forgot about it by the time we left the store.

Sorry, store.

Don't hate me.

No se.

Why do I do this?

When I see people I know but don't talk to, like ever, I feel a compulsion to exchange contact information with them. Why? I HAVE NO IDEA! But I just can't stop myself.

A couple months ago, in the gym, I sat next to a guy who I MAYBE talked to 3 times during high school. I knew him and he knew me. We got to talking and told each other about our spouses and our kids, and then of course, I was talking about how great it was to see him and then I asked him if he had a myspace of facebook account. He said he had myspace, so the next time I logged on, I looked him up, requested him to add me as a friend, and I have not so much as looked at his profile since then. I will never talk to him again. It's like a sickness I have - I don't know if I'm curious about people (aka NOSY and the answer is why ee ess) or if I am trying to be friendly or what.

It's worse when I have had a beer or two. This past weekend I was at a going-away party at a local restaurant/bar and I ran into a guy that had sort of dated a friend of mine. At the time, this guy worked at our gym and had taught us how to use the machines and kind of just told us a few things we could do. Well, I really got along with the guy, he's really nice, but it didn't work out between him and my friend, he quit the gym and so I never saw him until Friday night. Of course, I ask him the yoozh. Where do you work now, that kind of thing. He asks me if I am still working out, and instead of just saying, "yeah! I hit the gym at least four times a week these days," I go into this long story about how I do, but not as much as I want, and I dont remember what exercises to do, and who can help and he was so helpful last time and maybe he can email me some suggestions, how about that, here is my email, sure, email me about WORKING OUT since we never talk or see each other or anything. He acted as happy to get my email as I acted to give it, and I KNOW he had no intentions of helping me, and he knew I knew, and I knew he knew I knew but we still went through the whole stupid rigamarole.

And, you would not BEE LEEVE the number of girls i went to school with that I run into at Target! You never heard such a mess of lies. "Oh girl, we have GOT to get together! Our kids can play at the park! We can chitchat or take walks together!" All lies! We both know it's never going to happen and we STILL whip out our cell phones and enter each other's names and numbers. What is wrong with me?

You would think I might quit this behavior after I was, well, I think I was propositioned at a bar by a husband and wife team. The wife and I were yakking (not throwing up, but like yakkety yak) away like we were besties all our lives. She bought me a shot, told me about her husband (who was sitting by her silently) from England who she met online, we discovered that we have daughters who go to the same school, and it was the same old song and dance for me. SHe was chubby like me and of course we decided that the girls should play at the park while we walk. Numbers are exchanged, yadda yadda, then a while later she mentions to me, really off-handedly, that she and her husband are swingers. It was so strange...I just ignored it and NEVER brought it up again. I pretended everything was okay but inside I was ew'ed out. Homegirl DID actually text me the next day to make sure I still wanted to go walking! Of course I do not, because you know what going on a walk with a swinging wife means, right? Neither do I but I don't want to find out. BUT. In true Shannon fashion, of course, I replied with "sure!" OMG! I am NO WORSE THAN AN A$$HOLE GUY WHO ALWAYS SAYS "SURE, I'LL CALL YA." What is my problem??


P.S. The swinging husband from England looked like Mr. Bean. Just like Mr. Freakin' Bean. **shudder**