Me and my Bobby McGee

While I sit at work on break I can't help but realize how antisocial I've become lately. I don't have a passion for people like I used to. They all want attention and sympathy. All I've asked for was respect to me and my family while we push through this difficult time. Somehow my uncle's death is exactly what a few people needed to have an excuse to feel connected to me. Right. Isnt it sad for you to say "now we can cry on each others shoulders because we're sharing this." we're not. My uncle was mine. Your member was yours. I understand that I've been grumpy and moody but frankly this is tough. You don't understand how close we were, he helped raise us. We lived in his house with our dad when we were little, weekends to long periods. He was there for me, a phone call away if needed. We laughed together just a year ago, we argued over who was better at bulletshiting.

He was an amazing man, my uncle dale, my southern lumberjack with a heart of gold. He's going to be missed and not just by me.

What a long strange trip it's been.

Well, let's just say it, today will be a day that I will have to try and forget the main part of.

One of my favorite Lennon family has gone to the brighter side of life. This is good for him. He's been sick for so long, between his heart, and the poisoning her had years ago, we knew this day was coming. A few weeks ago my uncle somehow pinched a nerve in his neck and was paralyzed. Since his hospitalization, he caught pneumonia, his kidneys and liver failed. He started on constant dialysis, but was in a coma for the most part.

Now to the fun part the memories!

My goodness this man was a major part of my childhood. Showed up and took us all the time. He was the best uncle anyone could have asked for, he knew he was a close second to top uncle, but that's because Dale was more like Heather and I've always been more like Guy.

When I was 6 years young, I was having a foot race with my neighbor. Well, I tripped, fell and cracked my skull open. As i was screaming, no one could get ahold of my dad, and in walks the man himself. Talking about The Little Mermaid and telling me about the new movie that was to be released soon, Beauty and the Beast.  After Dale pinned me down, calmed me down and the doctors got the 8 stitches in my head, he drove us home.

Another favorite memory of mine is the Scarecrow Competition. This was two teams of two. team 1; Heather and Dale Team 2; myself and our Dad. We slaved over these scarecrows, finding old bottles, arrows, milk jugs, flannel (that one wasn't too hard, we are canadians) and jeans. We stuffed and propped, and stuffed more. I don't recall a time limit, but it was a tight race. Then the arrows and the knives were taken out. Oh goodness, the amount of ketchup wasted on these scarecrows was epic. The amount of gore that two young girls could dream up, and two grown (for lack of a better term) men, there to help execute them. No pun intended.  Heather and Dale obviously won, they cheated, don't know how, but i'm sticking with it.

My uncle lived in a giant log cabin that my family built from the ground up, on around 2 acres. We were spoiled, yet had rules. The grand days of playing pool, darts, weight room, feeding the iguana (appropriately named Chip), blowing up the microwave with a bag of expired secret pop colored popping corn and impromptu animal dissection in the yard (thanks DAD). These are the things i need to remember, not how mad he was when we were stuck in florida for a month in 2009, or how i shrugged him off the last time i saw him because he was staring at my chest tattoo..

This Photo was two weeks ago, that's my grandma, feeding him.