My uncle Ronnie

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The other day I was thinking about my uncle Ronnie. I can mention his name because he died a few years ago. The thing with my uncle is he was severely handicapped. My grandma took care of him until she died. My grandma had Rh- blood type and because of this she lost eight babies after birth and my uncle was born with several medical conditions. Amazingly, my grandma, had eight children survive seven of them who were healthy. My grandma was told my uncle wouldn't make it to 5 years old but made it up into his 70s. They wanted to take him from her and that's why he never had much of a life because she was so afraid if a lot of people knew about him they'd take him from her so he didn't get any sort of education but I'm telling you he was smart as a whip and he just knew things. He couldn't walk, talk, or hear. We think he had some severe form of cerebral palsy along with a few other medical conditions but I'm unsure because he didn't see doctors regularly. Growing up my uncle was this big part of my life because my grandma lived next door to us so he was always there. He used to scoot around the floor until they got him a wheelchair. My mom and aunt used to help take care of him and after my grandma died my mom and aunt took turns but eventually my mom had to stop because she was missing a large part of mine and my brother's childhoods and my aunt's only son was grown up with kids of his own. My aunt didn't work and my mom did and then after work went over there and helped. I would go visit her over there but she missed so much of our lives. She still helped out here and there but not like she did. I remember my dad used to take us and my uncle places. My uncle wasn't used to going many places so everything was so new to him. He was terrified of semi-trucks and whenever he saw one he'd holler and put his finger in his mouth. He did the same when he saw a drawbridge for the first time. We would take him to nature parks and push him down trails with boardwalks. I remember the first time we took him to see fireworks he could feel the vibrations and he flipped and started hollering and laughing. He had this big grin that I miss so much. He had this weird obsession with socks. He thought socks should go up to your knees and whenever someone came over barefoot or not wearing socks he considered long enough he'd throw one of his pairs at them. I used to go over barefoot all the time and he'd holler and point at our house telling me to go home and put socks on even though it was in the middle of summer. He was such a character. It's funny how for a man who couldn't speak he always got his point across. I rarely had any problems understanding him and somehow he always seemed to understand us. He used to read his bible and despite not learning how to read or even being able to hear I still feel like he could read just because he seemed to know things. Years later a doctor told my aunt that he was actually highly intelligent and had he been worked with there's no telling what he would have been able to do despite everything against him. He had this childlike wonder and innocence and he had this smile and laugh that just made you smile and laugh. He went into the nursing home after my aunt could no longer take care of him. I regret not visiting him often because I couldn't handle how sad it was there. My uncle liked it and my aunt always went there to help the nurses take care of him. He got where he forgot most of us especially me because I no longer looked like the kid he knew. I remember trying to show him with a picture that I was the kid in the picture and he seemed to understand. I didn't know what he remembered and what he didn't. I saw him for the last time a few months before he died. My mom said he kept pointing at his bible, then himself, and then toward the sky telling them he was ready to go home. I remember crying at his funeral but at the same time being at peace. He lived a much longer life than he was supposed to and he didn't have the best life dealing with his challenges and lack of experiences but I honestly believe he enjoyed life in a way those of us who have everything going for us don't. To him a simple trip to the store was exciting. In some ways maybe that's sad but honestly he didn't find that sad he loved it. He loved all of those little things we take for granted. I learned a lot from him. I learned that life is what you make of it. You can sit and be angry about everything you don't have or how you aren't doing more or you can be happy for everything you do have. He loved things like hamburgers and milkshakes, he loved a trip to the store or sitting outside and just watching those around him. He loved hugs. He loved "fishing". My dad used to put our kiddie pool out in the front yard and he gave him one of his old fishing rods and taught him how to cast and he absolutely loved it. He would sometimes just cast in the yard without the pool. He loved when my dad would take him on the ferry that he and my brother helped on for a while (they helped dock it). I could have felt sorry for him but honestly, he got to keep his childlike wonder and innocence forever. He got to live in a world where every single day was a miracle and where he found happiness in the simplest of things. I learned from him that life doesn't have to be filled with big extravagant things to be wonderful sometimes it's just things like seeing someone you love, looking at pictures, getting a hug, reading your favorite book, having your favorite meal, and just leaving the house for an hour or two because you can. The best things in life don't have to involve big expensive trips or expensive luxuries. Sometimes just having people who love you and those little things you enjoy doing can be enough. When I think of him I think of childhood and happiness. I think of his smile and his laugh. I rarely think of the life he didn't get to live or how hard life had to have been for him because that's not who he was. He wasn't his handicap he was just this amazing person who happened to have a handicap. I miss him and I regret not having spent more time with him in his later years but I know he'd forgive me because that's just who he was and he knew he was loved. He didn't have to speak words for you to understand who he was.