To my Uncle, whom I love;
Some of
my earliest memories are traveling to my family’s quaint hometown of Hotchkiss,
Colorado. A town of a few hundred people and where someone “egging” doors was
headline news and if I were ever able to manage to get a date it would be wrong
due to the fact I was releated to the entire town in one way or another…
Another memory is sitting around my
Grandmother’s home watching
University of Arizona basketball with my entire
family. Cheering along with every
Steve Kerr jump shot, leaping out of our
seats with every
Chris Mills fast break and finish, celebrating their wins and
crying through their losses (I am referring to my beloved cousin Danny on this
one). The only times we could hear ourselves talk was when we would all superstitiously
sing the theme to
Jack Furrier's westernTire Center so the Cats could pull out the victory. The rest of the time we
were all muted, lost in the commotion if you will, as were all the
commentators. There, above all, was my passionate Uncle arguing, commenting and
for all intents and purposes “coaching” at the TV. Like most adolescent memories, at the time I was
annoyed, just wanting to hear the game and the roars of the crowed. Now, as a
man, I look back on these times and treasure each moment; each time the ref “needed
to pull the whistle from their ass” or “the refs are obviously paid off” are
now sacred and sadly finding myself thinking the same things as I watch
Pac12basketball.
My Uncle will always play a vital
role in my life. I was lucky enough to have two parents who loved me; One affectionately
and the other in his own, distant way. My Father, despite all of his faults, is
a good man and I have never held anything against him or blamed him for any of
my problems or him never being around, mostly because I have never felt I had
anything missing from my life or childhood. Those “missing parts of our
childhoods that only a father could fix” were never a concern for me. It wasn’t
till later that I realized it was because the gaps were filled by an attentive Uncle
who loved and treated me like a son. Teaching and playing basketball with me and
his own kids, being that loud voice from the stands at all our sporting events
that either was cheering us on or telling us to keep our head in the game and
even helping me learn to drive a car as well as work on one…. There are many
things a boy can only learn from a having a father around… I agree… I am fortunate
enough to both have had a father as well as a surrogate one.
One of my faults in youth and now,
to a lesser degree, is becoming easily annoyed. Mostly when people give an
opinion and refuse to hear or cede that another opinion may be right. My Uncle
and I would spend endless time “arguing” over the most inconsequential and trivial things.
It wasn’t until years later that I realized that we weren’t arguing but discussing (be
it loudly) these touchy topics. Moreover, I may have been arguing but he was
always showing me that there are other opinions than my own (as wrong as they
may be). These things that I once thought annoyed me are the very same that
will make me laugh and smile 10, 20 and 30 years from now.
In 2010, my Uncle was diagnosed
with esophageal cancer; another family member falling victim to cancer in my
family. He has fought since day one by enduring chemo, radiation and multiple surgeries.
Even now, as the final round of his bout approaches the end, he continues the
fight.
I wish I would have said all the
above more the last 27 years, but I am saying them now. And putting it to stone
in the cyber-verse for all to say and, like my Uncle has done for me, inspire
all to love, pursue knowledge and understanding and, more importantly, take
time to yell at the TV and coach your favorite team on to victory.
Forever
your Tommy Two-Shoes,
Tommy
