Thursday, November 30, 0002
I will never forget one story about my godfather that my parents have told me many times over the years. It illustrates exactly the kind of man he was. When I was an infant, I was very sensitive to noises and quick movements. I could cry at the drop of a hat, and required a little extra finesse. One day my Uncle Steve came to visit, and my parents put me in my crank-up baby rocker. Every time the seat went back and forth, there was a loud *click* sound made by the crank mechanics. According to the story, every time the chair clicked I would wince and shrug away. Of course, the clicking was like a metronome, and so I was in a constant state of disturbance. Noticing this, and caring so much for me as he did for everyone, Uncle Steve went out and bought me an electric chair that was quiet and smooth. I was a much happier baby from that point on. Thank you, Uncle Steve, for always thinking of me and for loving me so much. I will always remember you as a kind, generous, open-hearted father figure in my life, and I will treasure the love and wisdom you imparted to me forever. You will be dearly missed, not only by me, but by every life you have touched. I love you.
167 Wakelee Avenue