Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Patrick Maxwell










Patrick Maxwell died on December 18, 2006. He had just turned 51 on the 8th. Only weeks earlier he had lost his big brother (seen in this picture) to cancer. Michael was only 60.





I was completely shocked by the news of uncle Pat's death. Mom called me in the morning around 5:30am. She said "Kris, something very tragic has happened..." That's the perfect word for it - tragic. I had hoped that my uncle would be around for many many more years. He was a powerful influence on many people. He had the potential to lead so many by his humble example. He cannot do that now... and there in lies the tragedy.



My earliest memories of uncle Pat are the product of a fetish of mine. Anyone who knows me well, knows how I love to "groom" people. I like to do hair, rub lotion, give manicures, etc. Stephanie Maxwell can attest to the time I put into curling her hair (hours and hours... poor girl!) In this little "quirk" of mine lies my memory of uncle Pat.



Often I would spend the night at gram's house. (My love for her is a whole other story in itself) Gram would fix dinner and serve her two men (Pat and grandpa). After dinner, like clockwork, I'd say to my big burly uncle at the end of the table (the side nearest the sink) "Uncle Pat? Can I do your hair?" to which he'd respond "Sure, come over here. And you can rub my back too."



I'd gleefully skip off to the bathroom to collect my "supplies" and I'd set to work. I'd brush his hair. First this way, and then that way. I'd wet a comb and part it to the side. I'd brush his scraggley beard saying "I'm gonna smooth it out ok uncle Pat?" he'd respond with a "sure"



He said the word "sure" in a unique way. Those of you who knew him well KNOW what I'm talking about. He'd really curl his lips up and in a playful way say "sure". I can hear it! "sure" "sure" it's stuck in my mind!



Then, it was on to the back and neck. Or should I say the two walls of solid rock! My little hands couldn't massage that for the life of me! He was so tense from working all day that it seemed I wasn't even making a dent! But he'd give directions..."a little higher...to the right..."



I loved it! Every moment of it. Gram would be talking away to us as she cleaned up in the kitchen. Uncle Pat would interject here and there. It was glorious! In those moments I was special. I mattered. My little hands made a difference to somebody. It may seem silly but it adds up you know. Just sitting there for me and "going along" with my little girl ways. He didn't have to do that. But he was patient with me and all my hair brained ideas. That's how he loved me. He let me be a silly little girl who wanted to play with her uncle's bushy hair and beard.



My life took me "out of the loop" so to speak. After grandma died I didn't see uncle Pat very much. I was busy with college and then my own family and all that stuff. It's not really a very good excuse. I regret that. I was lucky enough to tell him as much though.



In uncle Mike's hospital room I was able to say, what it occurs to me were the last words I ever spoke to uncle Pat. Uncle Pat was sitting in the chair against the wall in uncle Mike's hospital room. I walked in and sat next to uncle Mike. I kissed him and told him how much I loved him. It was hard to see him so small and pale. But I wanted him to see my face. I wanted him to hear my voice saying "Uncle Mike I love you so much."



I stood up and turned my face away from him. I was crying and I didn't want him to see the tears on my cheeks. I looked straight at uncle Pat then, who sat directly opposite his brother. Uncle Pat looked back at me and his face was soft and full of compassion. So, I did something I should have done a thousand times over in the last 15 or 20 years - I threw my arms around his neck. As I hugged my uncle Pat, I said "I love you uncle Pat. And I'm sorry for being gone so much.." he tried to cut in with "it's ok Kris, don't worry..." but I continued "It's just that you take people for granted you know?" "Ive taken you for granted and I love you." He responded sympathetically "I know Kris, I know."



Well, God is good. He graced me twice that day. I was able to tell both my uncles how much I loved them. Now I need to live out the lesson learned. I will tell those I love that I love them. It's that simple.



1 comment:

Anonymous said...

This is very nice, Kristan. You were very fortunate, to be able to spend so much time at your Grandma & Grandpa's house.

The thing I will miss the most about Patrick is his wit. His intelligence was very much a part of that sense of humor. Sometimes, the things he said were outrageous... but there was always a bit of truth and insight there anyway. And we all knew he had a good heart, even when his words were sharp.

I often think about how he must have suffered because of his weight. Some people might say, "Oh, it was his own fault," but I would argue with that. I've always believed it was a chemical imbalance, and scientists have just begun to prove that. In families where some are very thin and some very heavy, it is caused by excess or shortage of one particular enzyme.

Anyway... we have many good memories of our loved ones, and we must remember they are with us all the time now, in spirit. I often hear Pat or Mike correcting my thinking now, when I'm trying to sort things out or make decisions.

Love, Aunt Mary