The phone rang this morning. I always make it a habit to look at the caller id. But this time I forgot and just picked up. On the line was my great uncle. He usually never calls, actually really never calls. The last time I talked to him was my senior year of high school.
He started asking me about how I was doing, and where I was in life. As I replied he would tell me about his. The glory days in high school. About him and his best friend Zip. Zip was the president of his class. My great uncle was his best friend, the two of them had fun together, got in trouble together. You know, they did what all best friends do.
My uncle was the class valid Victorian. There is still a picture of him at the high school he went to. At least last time I went it was there. He was really handsome, and very much a ladies man. lol. After he graduated from South Lancaster Academy he joined the army and fought in WWII. He's told me the stories a million times. I always love listening, even if the same story was told ten minuets earlier.
My great uncle was one of my favorite family members. I remember he bought me a watch. It had a yellow wrist band and a picture of a panda bear jumping rope. I still have it actually. I treasured that watch as a child.
Of coarse as a child there is always a side to the story one doesn't know. My great uncle was a drinker in high school. As he grew up his habit became worse. Such a smart smart man, and such a horrible demise. Alcohol ruined his life. He had so much potential, and lost all his motivation to the flask. But i don't remember the problems his drinking caused him.
Then one day my grandma got sick. She had cancer and died when I was about four. Not a lot of people remember that far back in their life time, but I do. I remember sitting on her bed, letting her tell me stories while my mom took care of her. My grandma was a true beauty. And my great uncle was her brother. When she died my uncle was devastated, and that was it. I never saw him again.
After she died my great uncle went away. I never saw him again after that. But every couple of years he rings our phone and I at least get to know he's still alive. I so wish I could be four again, and open that watch he bought me. I wish that I had a normal relationship with him so that instead of talking about the past we could talk about the future. But the past is where he seems to live and when he calls it is only the past I can talk to. I so wish the past was different, and he didn't have a drinking problem and he hadn't moved away. But time passes on and every time I talk to my uncle I learn to treasure what you have for the moment you have it. Because someday it can all be gone forever.
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