Full Version (With Nautical Closing)
A Fondest Memory of Uncle Dom
When I think of Uncle Dom, I think of a man who truly embraced life — his family, his country, his travels, and most of all, his beloved Sylvia.
One of my fondest memories of him takes me back to 2015, when Gina and I traveled up from Alabama to spend a few days with him and Sylvia for her birthday. My sister Linda was there too, and looking back now, it feels like one of those sacred windows of time — ordinary in the moment, priceless in memory.
We visited the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, walking through the exhibits and sharing stories sparked by the music of different eras. Dom loved experiences — you could see it in the way he took everything in. Later, we went out on the lake and up the river on one of the sightseeing cruises. Being out on the water felt especially fitting for him. As a Navy veteran of the Korean War, the sea was always part of who he was. He loved being at sea, loved being out on Lake Erie, and over the years he and Sylvia owned numerous boats. Time on the water wasn’t just recreation for him — it was peace, freedom, and joy. His cherished boat, the Mary D, was just one chapter in a lifelong love of the water.
One afternoon the ladies went shopping, and Dom and I had some time to ourselves. We grabbed a couple of brews and shared easy laughter — the kind that comes naturally when you respect and genuinely enjoy someone. It was simple time together, but it meant more than I realized then.
What stood out most that entire visit was the way he loved Sylvia. After 60 years of marriage, the admiration was still there — steady, gentle, unmistakable. He truly adored her. It showed in the smallest gestures and in the warmth of his voice when he spoke her name.
Sylvia’s birthday celebration at their beautiful Westlake home captured that love perfectly. Their dearest friend in the world, Lauren Miller, brought a wonderful cake for the party. Dom and Sylvia cherished Lauren beyond words. She wasn’t simply a friend — she was family. The affection and gratitude they had for her ran deep. She is truly a treasure.
That evening — gathered in their home, celebrating Sylvia, sharing cake and stories — felt like a snapshot of Uncle Dom’s life: loyalty, love, laughter, gratitude, and that steady pull toward the water that always renewed his spirit.
When I think of Uncle Dom now, I think of that trip — the lake breeze, the laughter over a couple of beers, the warmth in his home, and the way he looked at Sylvia.
That’s how I’ll always remember him.
May he now have calm seas and following winds.