Reminiscing a Bit Tonight, Happily

Thought I’d take a few moments to remind myself of how blessed I have been this year. Yes, I lost someone I cared about so much, my nephew. And, yes, he died right in front of my eyes that morning at just 56 years of age. But it was fast, thankfully, for him. Still, I miss him. 

Christmas was his favorite time of the year. Maybe that’s what urging me to write tonight. Maybe I need to remember that.

He was always a go-getter, in spite of his rather calm manner. That is odd. To some folks, he was calm, almost slow. To others, he seemed like an East Coast wiseguy. But he had the softest heart.

Back to Christmas. 

He was always a go-getter. He had his little shoe shine box and when he was only 5 or 6, he’d hit the neighborhood bars where we lived at the shore. He was adorable. The tipsy patrons couldn’t resist him. And he learned before most other kids how to make change on the spot and how to pacify the unruly ones and how to just get out of the way of the others. 

As he got older, he progressed to paper routes. He usually handled two at a time. He even got his first route when he was 10 and back then, at this paper, you were supposed to be 12, but he wheedled his way in by smooth talking the district manager. Around Thanksgiving, they’d have contests and give turkeys to whoever got the most new “starts.” He’d talk to his fave customers, get them to “quit” and re-start. For a few years, he brought home the turkey for the holiday and he was so proud of that. He wasn’t doing anything illegal, or even unethical - he was simply sharp enough to work the system.

Then he was a pool boy and towel boy for the chambermaids at the local motels. 

What did he do with this money?

When Christmas came, he was little Santa. He has a flock of littler nieces and nephews. And he always, always insisted on buying for each and every one. And he bought for his mom. And he bought for me. And for his aunt and uncle. And for anyone he felt close to.

On Christmas morning, the three of us (his mom, me and him) would grab a bus and head to her sister’s home. Then he’d watch, even more excited than the kids, even though he was just a kid himself, while they opened what he bought.

He had an uncanny knack for knowing just what to buy for each one, including his mom and me.

As he grew into manhood, there were tough times off and on. But even though he’d get through them, it just about killed his spirit if he couldn’t get Christmas gifts for friends, family and co-workers.

Yes, I miss him. He was like a son to me. But I miss his joy in Christmas giving. 

Frank, I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing that. 

Love you, kid.