My Uncle Bob - always 4th Row and Center

Yesterday my Uncle Bob, my Dad's only brother, died in California. He was 90 years old.
As we drove home from Montreal today I had a long time in the car to think about him and all my memories. These are some of them:

I remember how much love my Dad and Uncle Bob had for one another. There was always an easy affection and openness in their relationship. When my Dad died I know that it was devastating for Uncle Bob. Bob was 50 and my Dad was 52...it was too soon. I know that Bob missed my Dad everyday after. Now they are together....and I'm sure they are both smiling. I always remember them smiling...such wonderful smiles.

Uncle Bob loved children and always enjoyed having kids in the house. I always felt welcome in their home from when I was very little all the way into adulthood. When my Dad died, Uncle Bob became in many ways my surrogate Dad. He and aunt Elena would come to all the important events of my life: birthdays, high school football games (often driving me and my girlfriends to and from "away" games), plays, award ceremonies, graduations, my wedding. I always felt their love and support...always. For a long time after Dad died, Mom and I would spend Christmas Eve at their house making a difficult holiday easier and safer.

I remember their house full of people gathered around the swimming pool, the kitchen table, clustered in the living room, eating on card tables in the family room. I remember thanksgivings, new year's eves, 4th of Julys, barbeques and just simple Sunday afternoons. One summer...I think it may have been 1970 or 71. I spent a couple of weeks at Bob and Elena's with a friend. I remember laying by the pool, eating good food, listening to rock and roll blaring from the AM radio...probably KRLA. Feeling safe and loved.

Uncle Bob loved to make his special spaghetti sauce and would futz over it for a long time. I loved his spaghetti...just like I loved Aunt Elena's enchiladas and tostados. I had many long happy meals at their table.

Until my Dad died, we always had Christmas Eve at our home. I remember when I was very little and still believed in Santa Claus that one Christmas Eve, Uncle Bob jingled his keys aas if we could hear Santa on the roof with his reindeer...I caught him at it! He just smiled. I remember him hugging me and laughing. I was little disapponted that it wasn't really Santa...but even then I could appreciate Uncle Bob's infectious and often silly sense of humor.

Another Christmas Eve after my Dad died, mom and I were at Bob and Elena's house. We had come home from dinner at the Moyers and Uncle Bob and I were faced with having to put together a "Big Wheels" tricycle for Christina. we worked on it for several hours...I don't think we ever got it put together. We couldn't figure out how to get the darned pedals on!!! I'm pretty sure it was close to 2AM when we finally gave up. Santa's elves just couldn't finish all the toys that year. We had to take it to the toy store the day after Christmas!!!

Uncle Bob in a Santa hat in front of a Douglas Fir trimmed with tinsel or garland. That is how I picture him at Christmas. Handing out presents and putting the used Christmas paper to burn in the fireplace. I remember the year, Uncle Bob and Aunt Elena kept the flocked tree in the front room until March when Richard came home from the Army and we had Christmas all over again. I'm pretty sure I've never seen Uncle Bob look happier than that day.

I remember the smell of his pipe tobacco...a cherry vanilla smell. If I went driving with him in his car it would smell so good because he kept his pipe and tobacco in the car. A few years ago he gave his old pipes to my son Jason (who has taken up the pipe)...I'm not sure who was more thrilled Jason (he loves old pipes) or me for the wonderful memory I have of drives to the store or the dairy for ice cream with Uncle Bob.

When my Dad died Uncle Bob and Aunt Elena took such good care of my mom and me. Especially my mom. They helped, of course, with the funeral. But more importantly they gave my mom and me so much support afterwards. For a long time they would come over once a week (or more) and often would spend the night. It meant so much for my mom. I was 12 and young and resilient and in many ways didn't fully understand just how much my life had change. But my mom was devastated, she had lost the love of her life. Their support meant everything to her.

When I was in high school I have two funny (and sweet) memories of Uncle Bob. As I said before he would often drive me and my girlfriends to football games. We were always a noisy handful, chattering and giggling (and probably squealing). I'm sure his ears would be ringing for hours afterwards. But one game in particular he talked and laughed about for years...the El Rancho vs Bishop Amat 4F Championship Game at the Los Angeles Coliseum in 1972. El Rancho lost by field goal (or maybe a touchdown). We, of course, were devastated as only 17 years old girls can be. So instead of laughing and giggling we were crying and complaining (perhaps wailing would be a more accurate description). Bob had raised two boys...these teenage girls I'm sure were a constant amazing challenge to him....but he loved us...and we loved him.

The other memory is funnier in retrospect than at the time...although it made a good story even then. In high school I was in drama class and I had a part in a play by Jules Feiffer called "Feiffer's People". In one scene my character stood alone on the stage in a small theater looking out at the audience and said "Men don't understand me, they think I talk to much. They shouldn't listen to what I say, they should listen to what I mean". My Uncle Bob started to laugh and laugh and laugh. It was true...that monologue hit pretty darn close to home. He laughed through the ENTIRE monologue...loudly...he just couldn't stop. I was always pleased with myself that I didn't break character...and my director Squire Fridell was a little less than pleased with my uncle. But I always remember that evening and I always remember that laughing or not, my Uncle Bob was there...4th row center at my performance.

A couple of years ago, my mom and I drove to Uncle Bob and Aunt Elena's apartment in Glendora. While my mom stayed at the apartment and chatted with Elena, I took my Uncle Bob to one of his favorite Mexican restaurants. He had really slowed down and had difficulty walking but he wanted to go, and so did I. We had the best lunch, eating slowly and talking for a long time. We talked about my Dad. We talked about family history. We talked about when my Dad and Uncle were in the service (and both stationed in Panama) during WW II. It was a wonderful meal that I will remember always. I'm so glad I had the chance to spend that afternoon with him.

I loved him and I will miss him.