November 29, 2009
Weldon uncovers long lost
I was so sorry to hear about
Uncle Nick and to think about what a bad soul-ache you are all now having.
I have many happy memories of Uncle Nick(like him giving us all coins
at the airport before you guys left for one of your multi-year stays
in Greece), and even though I could lnever brag about my Dad being bigger
than anyone elses's dad, at least I could point to an Uncle no one could
beat. It now makes me both happy and sad to go over those and other
memories of all of us growing up together.
Hey, Greeks, and friends,
spouses and lovers of Greeks. I think this is the stuff Cindy deleted
(start at the bottom with Cindy's note to me). Hope you're all on the
road (at least the entrance ramp) to recovering from Uncle Nick's change
of scenery (that's what I believe, anyway - despite my upbringing).
I don't know if any of the above addresses go to Aunt Riva; if not,
please give her my love. Hey, Matt, if you're "Bluesking"---and
I suspect you be he---you'd love Kansas City. Come see us any time in
the warmer weather.
Dear Josh: Thanks so much
for sending us that card. There is good and bad with life and death,
but one of the good things about death is getting back in touch with
everyone we love but "have no time for". Matthew, David, James,
and I all flew out to New Mexico (without our spouses and our children),
and it was WONDERFUL spending time together. On our last
Only too true. I don't know why it takes a funeral to get people to drop all that "important" crap they're so busy with and spend some time with the people they care about (and isn't it amazing how it can be done with a moment's notice and almost zero planning if the need is seen to be great enough?). I also have had some of my best family togetherness moment when
someone has died, and it's kind of surreal and you're not sure if you should be laughing or enjoying food and stuff like that. I was thinking the other day about an incident when I was very little (2nd grade, maybe). Anne-Laurie and I were walking down the street toward your house and she was twirling around a roller skate key attached to a string (like your parents always tell you not to do). It hit me in the lip (see, they're right) and I started bleeding profusely. Well, you can imagine how the Queen of Freakout was (not) dealing with the situation. She ran me up to your house, and Uncle Nick somehow calmed her down in that way he had to make you feel like everything was under control, and he patched up my lip, and here I am today to tell the story. I felt so "taken care of" and that is one of the very few good early childhood memories that has always stuck with me (most of the others seem to be ear aches, tooth aches, Timmy throwing her suitcases up the basement stairs (like, where was SHE gonna go?), getting spit on by the O'Garas, etc. Oh, and then there was the time you sold me all those Barbie accessories so I could give them to Lisa for a Christmas present (I think she was 12), and it was a big scandal and the grownups made you issue a
refund. But I got my revenge by chasing you around with a piece of dog shit on a stick. I've never forgotten how effective that was, and I still shish-kabob a nice fresh specimen from the backyard now and then when Zoe gets out of hand.
Hope you are all doing OK. One of these days we're gonna make it down to
Chapel Hill. Is that a threat or a promise?
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