Uncle Brian was my only uncle, and he was awesome. He used to do all the cool things when I was a kid. When I was 12, he took me to a baseball game downtown Toronto. He had to park so he gave me the ticket and went off. I got to see the game in whole. By the time he came in the game was already over. I had been eating a bunch of junk food that I had bought with the money he gave me. I always remember that he believed in me enough to go in on my own and that I would not be scared. I remember him letting me be ball-boy when he was playing tennis with his friends. I cut my pinkie on the can of tennis balls when I opened it. It was my first scar. He would come over to Mom and Dads and play billiards with his buddies and they would let me play as well. I always admired that he included me in his life when he did. I know that I was a handful. Brian told me once I was a bit of holy terror. For that I am sorry. Uncle Brian spent a lot of time developing Bible Trivia in the 80s and was very successful with it. He was travelling a lot during this period. Living well. Later, I would run into Uncle Brian when he moved up to Brockville and I was at Queen’s University. We’d go out for a bite to eat or watch some football together.
Even later, when he lived closer to Ottawa, I would bring my kids over to visit him and see the horses and the dogs and get out in the country. Both my kids have avid memories of those events. Especially my daughter Emma who witnessed real life up and close to the anterior of a horse. We still laugh about that one. Later Brian told me he met a lady name Karen, and he was moving to the US, marrying her, and becoming a US citizen. I was sad to lose him being so close, but I understood this was good for him.
Since then, I would see Brian when I was in Toronto. He was very good to his mom. I would be visiting Grandma and he’d show up. We’d catch up. Maybe get a bite to eat. Talk about the NFL or US politics. Him and I spent a lot of time at the hospital the week when Grandma swallowed part of her retainer by mistake. I thought she was not going to make it. Drove quickly to Toronto, and there was Brian at Grandma’s bedside. Grandma pulled through but I had a great time with Brian.
In the next few years, I’d see him when visiting Grandma or when I was visiting his sister with my son Jacob. He would always have a cheerful attitude with little jokes and plays on words with a twinkle in his eye as he said them. Mom started to develop dementia and would often make outlandish statements. I was fortunate because I could call up Uncle Brian and he would calm me down and explain what really happened. I was so thankful to have him there during one stretch when I had nobody else to talk to.
The next time I saw him it was at grandma's funeral in Toronto. Him and I were there to see Grandma buried. After we found a coffee shop and caught up. He would talk with pride about his life with Karen, his horses and his dogs. Once again I wished we had more time to speak but he or I needed to drive somewhere far.
We would from then on talk through the years. It might be a few months. He might not check his email. I might get busy, but we always connected, and it was like old times.
Just last month I told Uncle Brian about my father passing and he reminded me that he was always thankful for something Dad did for him. I will never know what he did but it was just the thing I needed to hear at that moment.
I will miss you Uncle Brian. Thank you for being my uncle. I love you.
Gregory
