Friday Night

This is what it looks like from here. Thanks to a good 20 minutes of chores from each of my children and 45 minutes of decluttering and wiping surfaces from me, we're starting this weekend off on a good note. (Read: clean house. Yay!)

Lasagna that I assembled and froze ahead of time is baking. I'm in my old lady nightgown and I have wine. Samuel is playing video games. Solomon is reading. Miriam is practicing new hairstyles.

Life is good.

That Is a Lot of Data

I wonder if it's because I watched 3 videos from the DNC totaling about 2 hours?

Uncle Max

I have had this post sitting in my editing box for more than 3 months.  I started out wanting to say how sad I was that the end was near, how much I was going to miss him.  But those words would not come out, no matter how hard I tried.  Since then, he has passed and I have thought about this post at least weekly.  I have come back to write it many times.  I save it every time without making any progress.  I don't know what to say.

In the last several years I've only seen him once or twice per year.  But knowing that my Uncle Max was in the world made my world better.  I miss him.

I miss his laugh.  He had this hysterical giggle that overtook him when he was telling a funny story.  His eyes almost disappeared into his face and he couldn't get the words out.  Watching him tell a funny story was almost funnier than the actual story.  Almost.  Almost, because he had a plethora of funny stories -- pranks he pulled on friends, pranks he pulled on family, pranks he pulled on teachers.  In these stories, his getting caught was usually the thing he found to be the funniest.

I miss seeing him with his horses.  He loved his horses so much.  I've not had many experiences with horses at all, but the ones I have had, Uncle Max was always there.  Horses will always be linked with Max in my mind.

I miss his concern.  When I got divorced, his thoughtfulness and sensitivity were so meaningful to me.  He related to so much of what I was going through.  It was really good to know that he was thinking of me and he was on my side.

One summer when I was about 12, Jennifer, Lance and I spent a week or so with Uncle Max and his family.  He worked nights and beds were in short supply with so many people in the house so I slept in his and my aunt's bed with my aunt while he was at work.  One morning he came home from work while I was still asleep and my aunt had gotten up to shower.  Max leaned over the bed, thinking I was my aunt, and tried to snuggle up with me.  When I turned over and he saw that it was me, we were both a little unnerved, to say the least.  But after that, it was one of the funniest things ever.

Uncle Max was always up for a good time.  A few years ago, after Thanksgiving dinner at my parents' house, Jenn and Caleb and I left our children with Mom and Dad.  Then, anyone who was interested walked the few blocks from my parents' home down to the main street to have drinks and shoot pool.  There was quite a crowd -- Jenn and Caleb, Lance and his girlfriend at the time, Jonathan, Max and myself.  I believe Caleb's brother even joined us.  We had a great time.  At some point in the evening, Max tried to refresh my two-stepping skills, of which I have very little.  I have no idea how many times I stepped on his booted toes (Ah, yes, the cowboy boots -- a Max trademark.) but it didn't matter.  We had lots of good laughs at my expense.

My heart aches so much for my cousins, for Max's wife, for my mom, and for my grandparents.  I know that as much as I'm missing him, it cannot compare to what they are feeling in his absence.  There is just so much sadness in this.

A few times in the nearly 3 months since he has been gone, someone in my family has commented on or Liked pictures of Max in my albums on Facebook.  When I get the notification and click through to the photo, it takes my breath away for a few seconds.  It's so good to know that he is not and will not be forgotten, but that reminder that he is no longer with us hurts so much.  It's good to have so many great memories about such a great human being, but knowing that there will not be any new memories hurts so much.

I guess that's what I want to say.

These Kids ...

Miriam: "Can we get Pop-Tarts?"
Me: "No."
Solomon: "Pop-Tarts are full of sugar!"
Miriam: "That's why they're yummy!"
Solomon: "That's not a good enough reason."