Dear Uncle Mike: It was good to see you Friday, I hope I didn’t stay too long. I could tell you had somewhere to go. Just wanted to say thanks again. For the visit, and for so many other things. In replaying my childhood, well … I can’t hit the “play” button without thinking of you.
And play, we did!
The many, many spur-of-the-moment trips to Cleveland Municipal Stadium in one of your Ford Thunderbirds. The red one, the green one, the beige one. OMG, it was like being in the Batmobile. No one could zip westward on I-90 from Chardon to the Stadium like you. Of course, not even Batman and Robin could rescue us from seeing some really bad Tribe baseball in the late ’60s and ’70s.
But, dang, we had fun.
Ditto for those jaunts to the old Cleveland Arena and, later, the Richfield Coliseum. The Cavs were on fire in ’76. And we saw all of it. I’ll never forget the feeling when you hired me for the summer of 1974. I actually got a labor union card. I made $8.10 an hour. In 1974? That was like … a windfall of a wage. But the joy you brought to me … that is nothing but priceless.
You were just the coolest. In later years, I’d visit and you couldn’t remember me. But it never stopped you from trying. You’d ask questions, you’d make me feel welcome, and, in no time, you’d make me laugh. That’s how it always was. You were so go-with-the-flow.
Your love for precious Aunt Gerry was always beautiful to behold, and of course, you and your twin sis, my dear Mom (not to dis Batman and Robin) will reign forever as the Greatest Dynamic Duo of all time. Heaven will never be the same. Not sure I will, either.
See you on the other side, dear Uncle Mike.