Uncle Ed

When I was a little girl in Southern California, I looked forward to visits with my Aunt Marg and Uncle Ed almost more than anything.

They lived about an hour's drive from us, and when my parents would tell me we were going to see them, I'd be so excited all the way there, I'd barely shut up.

As soon as we got there, after hugs and kisses and always a gift of pretty, colored paper from his print shop for me, my Uncle Ed, who always seemed to have a stogie in his mouth, would go behind the bar in the family room and offer me my choice of an endless array of carbonated drinks. Sparkling apple juice, chocolate soda in a can, any horrendous-sounding thing you can imagine, he had it.

The mixture of those drinks in my excited stomach was, well, volatile. My aunt collected owls, and in one of her bathrooms, she had owl wall hangings, pictures and these stickers on her shower door. I remember them spinning around me as I inevitably threw up carbonated chocolate and apple soda.

Every time.

You'd think I would have been averse to seeing Auntie Marg and Uncle Ed, but no. Every Fourth of July, they would drive down to see us. I'd barely get to sleep the night before they arrived, because I knew we'd have so much fun.

Uncle Ed would wake me up early on Fourth of July morning and we'd go down to the San Clemente Pier, walk out to the end, stopping to look at what the fishermen were catching. At the end of the pier, he'd buy me an ice cream and about $5 worth of bird seed so we could feed the pigeons.

I remember how much it made him laugh to see me covered with pigeons, all jostling to get at the seed that seemed to be everywhere.

We always had a big party at our house for the Fourth, and they'd stay for the fireworks in our driveway, then the fireworks the city lit off on the pier. We'd climb up to the top of the poolhouse my dad built in the yard so we could be high above everyone else -- it seemed like we were almost as high up as the fireworks.

As soon as they left, I remember asking when they were coming back because I could not wait to see them again.

I'm so glad to have those memories. Uncle Ed died this morning.