Saturday, April 7, 2012
I don’t even know where to begin when I think about the time I’ve spent with Uncle Skeet. I remember seeing him occasionally as a small child. Then, one spring, he called and asked my parents if I could come visit him in Anchorage, Alaska. That trip was so unbelievably fun, and I will be grateful for the memories made for the rest of my life. I wasn’t really sure what to expect, but I’m pretty sure I never imagined all the excitement that was in store for me. He took me fishing for salmon, sightseeing glaciers, taking day cruises, staying up late for fireworks in the land of the midnight sun, and so much more. During one day cruise Uncle Skeet pointed at a mountain and asked the captain if it had a name. The captain said no, so Uncle Skeet said it did now – Mount Christine. He made every effort to persuade that captain to tell everyone the new name of that mountain. I was clumsy from early on in life, and Alaska was no exception. When we went fishing, we had to hike. I had on waders and of course managed to trip over a log (accident number one). Then we decided to get mountain bikes, and I managed to wreck and skin up my knees. He locked me in the house so that he could go and get band aids, and told me that I couldn’t go outside. I’m not really sure that he ever really grew up; and for him, I think that was the perfect life. We spent that month seeing as much of Alaska as someone could see. I believe I even “camped” one night in the truck because we were going to do a day cruise. It was definitely the beginning of what most will likely think will never end (my spoiling). He took me everywhere. We went shopping, and of course I could never leave out Gremlin, my Yorkshire Terrier. I’m fairly certain if my uncle would’ve been closer, my dad would’ve had something to say about me coming home with all that stuff. But what could he do? Uncle Skeet never had a schedule. He came and went as he pleased. I remember several times when he drove from Alaska to Texas and would just show up on the doorstep, surprise!! That never ended, and while I was growing up I looked forward to those surprises. When I was in the eighth grade (that lovely stage where everything is embarrassing) he picked me up from school in his red Dodge Daytona. (That car actually talked.) He had the music up as loud as possible just to embarrass me; and needless to say, I got in that car as quickly as possible!! Then Bryan got really big; we got a trolley. When Uncle Skeet came to town and discovered it we drove to the trolley and rode it all over town just because. I thought he was nuts but in a good way of course. Every evening that he was in town he’d ask, “You wanna go drag Main Street?” Of course I did!! All the time spent with Uncle Skeet was like an adventure and I will miss him tremendously. The last time I saw him it seemed as though nothing had changed. He was still the same person I knew as a child, even though so much time had passed. I am proud to say that he was my uncle, and hope one day I can live my life the way he lived his – even if it is just for a short while. He never had plans. He just got up and lived for the day. I am very sad that we were not able to make the memorial service - we love you all!!
