I have been reluctant to post anything here. It seems so impersonal. Or maybe I really just don't know what to say. I guess I am still kind of in shock. It bothers me that I am having such a hard time picturing Eddie's face in my mind. The pictures here help, but when I think of him, it's always in a context of something else. When he was younger. When we all were. Christmas when I was a kid, and he came to Grumpy's house with a blue satin jacket and those aviator shades. Always with the aviators. Even at Christmas. It was 1986. He gave me a silver dollar. He gave everyone a silver dollar. He kept talking about how it would go up in value. I last saw it when I was about 15. I wish I still had it.
He had a cat, a long time ago; a cat named Garfield. He lived with it in that trailer at the lake. I fished for the very first time at that place. Eddie was there. That place is gone now, like so much else, it lives on only in memory. Over the past few years, I was so busy all the time. Busy with kids, work, daily life. I wrote Eddie several letters by hand, because I thought he might appreciate that. I wish I had written more. I wish I had gone by. So many times I started to and then didn't. Eddie told me once he didn't like what he called "popcorn" guests. People that just popped up.
We both shared an immense admiration for Grumpy. We visited his grave together once. We talked about how he wasn't there, in that grave. He was somewhere else, where there wasn't any more pain or trouble. I think Eddie is there now, too. My little boy plays drums now, and I bet Eddie would think that was cool. I bet my little boy would think Eddie was cool, too. The same way I did all those years ago. The kind of cool only an uncle can be; an uncle with aviator shades and a satin jacket.
