Tuesday, May 29, 2018

MEMORIAL DAY WITH MY HERO....

We all speak of how to live...
"Live a good life, live with no regrets.."
But few of us talk of how to die.
It seems like a while ago when I stood in 
this very same home, in the very same room
 watching my Aunt Tim
die with such grace.
Now yesterday, I visit this sweet man,
my Uncle Luke, my Mom's brother
but so much more to me.
Yesterday on Memorial day,
at 99 years, 7 months and 28 days, he was supposed
to ride in a parade and speak in front of many
who know and love him at the Memorial Day
parade. Yet his health had his children attend
in his honor. When I told the Boo that my
Uncle Luke was not well he suggested we,
instead of boiling crawfish, go ride to GM
to see my Uncle.
See why I love him?
I had told many Uncle Luke stories and I 
think Boo wanted to meet him as well.
What a visit we had!
When we got there my cousin Liz,
whom I had been texting with the day before
said as we entered the home,
"He must know you were coming because yesterday
he slept all day and today he is awake and waiting."
I joke with what I always tell him,
"Of course, his favorite niece is here!"
We walk into the living room where there lies
this wonderful, beautiful man,
wide eyed, sharp as a tac, ready to visit.
I go to kiss him, he grabs my hand and says
"sit here on the bed, and you"
as he motions to Boo.
We take a seat on each side of him and 
he begins to talk.
I ask about what Memorial Day means to him.
I served in WWII and then was called back for
the Korean War but he won't brag of all the
things he did there, the sacrifices he and his family
made during these years.
He tells of Uncle Freddie stories,
my Dad, always bragging about others,
telling us how my Dad was the best fisherman
he ever knew. Never bragging on himself,
always others. There he lays giving us advice,
"I am here just waiting, I am in no pain, I don't
need this oxygen, that is just to make me look sick.
I have no regrets, I have lived the best life and now
I just wait, wait to die."
I try not to cry but I add
"And there are lots of people waiting for you on 
the other side, Dad, Mom, your other sisters,,,"
"The love of your life..."
He does not cry, he shakes his head yes.
Because he won't brag about himself, let me 
say a few things about what this man has done for me...
I am called Lilly or Lil by most who know me.
Some may not know Lillian is my birth name.
It is my Uncle Luke I was told as a child, who gave
me the shorter name of Lilly.
"A little bitty thing like that don't need a big name."
From that day on he has always called me Lilly or Lil.
i was a sick child, causing me to have to stay home
while my peers and siblings went to school.
My mom worked, my Dad stayed home and
cooked. Most days my Uncle Luke came and had
lunch with us. After his meal he always called,
"Mattressitis" and napped on the sofa with me in
the crook of his arm. It was years before I realized
this was not a real condition. I think I even looked for
it in my medical dictionary when I was in Nursing school.
Another thing very few will know. 
Unle Luke grew daisies on the side of his house.
A large bed of them. Because they were my favorite,
each time I visited I would cut a handful to put
in my room. Daisies stayed beautiful for so long
and i always loved fresh flowers in my room.
One day after school I see him at my home,
planting something in our flower beds.
Daisies! 
He had taken plants from his many to plant
for me in my yard so I could have them
every time I wanted them.
When I thanked him for this, almost in tears,
he joked as he always did,
"Don't thank me, this is to stop you from taking
all my own daisies!"
Every year Uncle Luke planted a garden.
Every year he planted a few plants of cucumbers
that every one knew were mine.
"Those are Lilly's. She likes big seeds, the burpless kind."
When I lived on the bayou, he hand delivered the cucumbers
traded a cup of coffee for cucumbers.
He always drank a small shot in my demitasse cups
so that I always kept his cup close to the pot,
"just in case he stopped by...."
When I moved to Thibodaux the cucumber planting 
did not stop and when I went dtb but did not go to pick
up my cucumbers, I was fussed.
Many days, I went to visit and he was at his camp,
always at his camp. I knew when he could no longer
go to the camp and agreed it was time to sell it,
I knew his days in our world were coming to an end.
I am not sure you ever get ready to say goodbye to someone
you love so much.
I talk lots, am not shy to speak in crowds
and maybe I got that from my Uncle Luke.
He has been such an important part of me
and as we decide we have taken enough of
one on one time with him as family is coming 
in now from the Memorial Day gathering,
Boo takes this picture and walks to the kitchen.
I spend a few more minutes with him.
He grabs my hand as I kiss his head
and gives me words of wisdom
"Lilly, live your life with no regrets,
do what makes you happy, be kind to all 
like you are, when you get the chance to do good, do it"
I am teary-eyed and I kiss him again,
tell him how much I love him, how important he is to me.
I tell him I am happy, at peace, living a good life.
As I make my way to the kitchen, giving room for
family that is piling in now,
there are these beautiful framed artifacts,
a rendition of each medal he himself had earned in 
his 11 years in the service.  I am in awe of just how much
he has done for our freedom as he is never one to brag of
himself.

I can't hold back tears when this beautiful sketch
done by our own Golden Meadow artist, Sharon Doucet,
of our dear Uncle Luke.
As my cousin, Cindy presents it to him,
with his children, grandchildren, great grand children 
and a few friends surround him in his living room,
she says of the sketch,
"That is your eyes, that is your smile"
I can tell he is overwhelmed by it all.
So am I.
This man known as so very many for all he has
done his whole life, his sense of humor,
is closer to the next life than any of us are ready to admit.

As the boo and I leave, as I continue to tell 
more memories to him as they come to me,
I realize something, why I began this blog in the 
manner I did,
He has shown me not only how to live,
but how to die.
How to die with grace and honor and I beam
with  pride and I thank whomever was responsible
for having this man to be my Uncle.
In a world where we are told how to live,
I gained much knowledge yesterday on
how to die.
Forever in my heart, I share this blog with you all,
in honor of my dear uncle,
LUKE CHERAMIE.

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