Sunday, June 15, 2025
Uncle Sal
Visiting My Uncle Sal
Whenever mom and dad decided to head up the mountain to
gamble in Reno, they would usually leave my sister with the neighbors and their daughters and took me to my Uncle Sal's place. It was about 20 miles up the
hill from home and on their way, so it was convenient, and I liked staying with
him. Uncle Sal was my uncle from my mom's side of the family; someone I had
grown up with and who always treated me like I was special.
Uncle Sal was a little younger than my parents. Sure, he was an adult, but he
was still enough of a kid to make me feel like I fit in with him, which helped
to foster the closeness I felt with him; a near-perfect mix between paternal
figure and pal.
It was hard not to like Uncle Sal. He was tall with a mop of curly blond hair
and the most infectious laugh. He was quick with the jokes, and generous with
horseplay and hugs, even as I grew into my teens. His hands and arms were huge,
but always gentle. He rode a motorcycle whenever the weather was good and,
despite my mom's protests, eventually taught me how to ride too.
Saturday, June 7, 2025
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