WALKING IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF GIANTS: Prayers For My Uncle Jack I’m getting on an airplane in a few days to bring humor to service members. Anyone who knows me is aware I always consider this a privilege and treasure the opportunity. This upcoming morning that will not fully be the case. That morning and past few days I feel I haven’t been where my heart is. Which is back home in New York with my family during a very difficult time. My Uncle Jack has had a hard run of it the past couple week’s health wise and unfortunately culminated in a massive heart attack this past Wednesday. At midnight Pacific coast time I looked down at my phone and saw my cousin Young Jack had called. The acceptance of something had happen rushed over me. He is 3 hours ahead. I braced myself returning the call. Jack filled me in on the situation. It’s bad and my uncle would be in a medically induced coma for a few days. I of course asked about my aunt and his 3 sisters. After my uncle my main concern was my cousin Jack though. Because he is the only son, the only male direct family member and would undoubtedly forgo emotion and square his shoulders off to take on the burden. It’s in his nature. He is a tremendous individual. The closest thing to a brother I’d ever had growing up. Both coming of age in Irish immigrant households with 3 sisters and fathers disappointed when we didn’t take over the family plumbing businesses. The following morning I called him back and asked, “How are you”? Ok but… “How are you”… when covering the love between an Irish father and his son it really is nothing less than darkly humorous. A conversation I will never forget and will always remain between the two of us. Around this same time last year we lost my Uncle David who was the youngest of the four Walsh men. My uncle Jack came next, then my father and the oldest being my Uncle Tommy. Along with my uncle Mickey (my mothers brother) and my Godfather Uncle (not blood) Jimmy they all made up the giants of my youth. The men as a boy I stared up at in complete awe. I by no means intend to devalue the amazing woman who raised, nurtured and influenced me with what I am writing here. They are giants in their own right and will get their own words and praise. Today it’s about being an Irishman’s son. For the record though I love my Mommy. She’s beautiful and makes the best-mashed potatoes in the world. When I reflect on these men the only word that covers it is giants. As a boy they were all bigger than life to me. I went to Ireland to witness my very 1st wedding. Uncle David’s. I’d be completely fascinated when Uncle Jack broke out an accordion to play fine Irish music at our family gathering. Intimidated by the fact that Uncle Tommy was a school Principal. Laughed endlessly when my uncle Mickey wove tales about his two (made-up) pet skunks “Skunky Wonky and Smelly Belly” and amazed knowing he was a “Man Of Steel” walking on beams so high in the New York City sky while constructing the Chrysler Building. An I would disappear to a galaxy far away with Uncle Jimmy who’d be more excited about Star Wars than myself as we’d watch short clips together of the film on a home movie projector in his basement which was built like the inside of an old ship. Of course my father was the biggest giant of them all influencing, shaping and raising me. Even typing this as a 42 year-old man I realize they still tower over me. Something I am completely fine with. They are fitting memories. Both my Uncle’s David and Jimmy are no longer with us. I miss them dearly. My Uncle Jack is currently fighting for his life and every prayer, thought & vibe sent his way is very much appreciated. Uncle Tommy is flying in from the Cayman Islands where he resides with his husband. Uncle Mickey is a Franciscan Friar who recently relocated to New Jersey and now regularly has dinner, wine and laughs with my mother every Sunday evening. My father still remains my biggest giant. Helplessness, concern & life’s raw reality have often compelled myself a dyslexic to use words as survival mechanism. Weather it be within a joke to get a laugh, forcing myself to pull them off a page to gain another’s experience or an attempt to express vulnerability with my own trials. They never seem good enough to do justice to those or that which I love. Words will never be as powerful as moments to me. Getting off the phone with my father who lost his youngest brother last year and is watching another fight for his life currently. I felt his mortality hovering over our words. One day all giants lay rest. Which brings me back to the closet person to a brother I have my cousin Jack. The one detail I’ll share about our conversation from the morning is one of his nephews had asked, “What is wrong with Poppy?” Jack provided a comforting and respectful explanation. I myself later had ended up spending the rest of the day with my own Godson here in California. Listening to that beautiful sound of “Uncle (not blood) PJ” all day. I understand the love these great men I shared here had for me/us. Which makes saying/facing goodbye different than in the past. Somewhere along the way we became giants ourselves. I know the young eye’s looking up at my cousin Jack have one right in front of them during this difficult time. I hope we get to part this earth leaving so much behind to draw from in those young minds the way our giants provided us. I love what I do. I will be touring throughout Europe and the Mediterranean with veterans providing humor to current service members for the next month. I mean this is my job? Show up in a city or town and people gather to laugh. It still makes me shake my head at times in disbelief. I am a very lucky man. I always wanted my job to help me in some fashion when life throws hardships. It honestly does. It’s not the easiest profession to do. It is full of unseen pain, disappointment, difficulties and an acceptance of an often-lonely lifestyle. I am fine with that. Which does not mean I’m closed off. I’m just fully aware of the other end I get to soak up walking this world. I smile like my Uncle David, perform like Uncle Jack, perhaps open minds like Uncle Tommy, weave funny stories and walk on clouds like Uncle Mickey while also being completely fascinated when entertained myself like Uncle Jimmy and all so often see my father within myself. We all walk in the footsteps of our own giants. Having cleared an uneasy path for us through life. These are my words, prayer and feeling about a few men. Specifically my Uncle Jack at the moment. I will do my job, bring laughter, see/appreciate the unseen to my eyes and thanks those I respect along the way again on this trip. A big part of me won’t be there. It will be with my Uncle Jack a giant of my own fighting to remain with us. I love you Uncle Jack. *Family is a word that encompasses so much to so many. For me it comes down to one. Together.
Posted on: Sat, 09 Aug 2014 16:01:40 +0000
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