Sweat Dreams and Flying Machines

Two years ago my Uncle Craig passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack.   I'd like to share with you the piece I wrote for my uncle, it was this week that we lost him.
 
It was just yesterday morning they let me know you were gone…  

As kids, my  little sister and I always thought of our Uncle Craig as being a whole lot like the bulldogs you always loved – rough and tough on the outside and sweet on the inside.

I remember baking sugar cookies for Christmas with you.  I suppose some people may see sprinkles and frosting and think of their grandmothers, but as for me- I will always think of a big guy with huge arms and a barrel chest that could barely contain his laugh.

I’ve been walking my mind to an easy time…

 

As a teenager at the family farm, 1000 miles away from home and friends.  One hot afternoon you recruited me for a walk along the water.  As we walked you told me the entire story of Fight Club.  You managed to tell the story with just as much thrill as the movie that came out a year or two later.  I felt special that day, as just you and I walked.  It was one of my favorite memories, and one of my few of just me and you.

 

When I was a little girl, maybe five years old, my father was telling me how to make friends at school.  He told me how to shake hands, firm but gentle.  Twenty years later, I found out that you had been the one who taught my father that lesson.  It makes sense to me, for you have always been just that in my memories, firm but gentle.

For now and always, I will remember you.   You will always be and ache in my heart when I hear James Taylor sing, I will always remember, that on a lonely day when I could not find a friend, my Uncle Craig and I went walking.  And now, in my grief, James Taylor echoes in my mind;  I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain, but I always thought that I would see you again...

Sweet dreams and flying machines…. I thought it would never end.
Love always,
Sarah Lee