Uncle Doug

I have always taken great pride (and joy) in what a family oriented person I am. Its hard trying to keep up with everyone when you come from a BIG family like mine. My Mom is the eldest of five children. Her mother is one of eleven kids. My Dad is the baby in a family of eleven and I've lost track of how many family members I have in my family on his side.

When people ask about my family, I automatically sort through countless cousins, uncles, and aunts in my mind, when really, they probably just mean my immediate family (i.e. Mom, Dad, Dillon), but that is how I think:  family = everyone.

Anyway, the point is, it is VERY difficult to keep up with everyone. I'm pretty sure that even if I didn't have to work or go to grad school or do anything else, it would still be impossible for me to share all the love I have with each individual person within my family circle. I try to plan reunions and gatherings. I try to remember to send birthday and anniversary cards. I try to visit as much as I can.

That is the hard part. Visting...something we like to do a lot of in the country. I don't get to visit much. I apologize to folks for that. Its not like I don't love ya'll, I'm just really, really busy most of the time. Regardless, all that is just to set you up for the star of this particular blog...my Uncle Douglas.

Now, my entire life, my Uncle Doug has lived just out the road from me. When I say, "just out the road" I don't mean five miles down the road. I mean, literally a two minute walk from my house. I can step out onto the front porch, turn right, and see almost into his living room window. Nunn Road is just that...a road full of Nunns.

I have other family members I could blog about (and I probably will someday) but today is for Douglas.The background on him is that he is my Daddy's older brother. My Papaw Bob once taught him how to swim, by picking him up and throwing him into the creek and telling him to learn to swim or sink. We believe in tough love on the Nunn side of my family tree. ;-) Doug is also the father of three of my favorite people in the world: Bridgette, Kayla, and Steven.

When I was little, Bridgette was my hero. I wanted to look like her, talk like her, be exactly like her in every way. She was my idol. She was what I thought perfection was, but as you get older, you come to realize no one is perfect. We lost Bridgette way too soon and I still think of her often and miss her a great deal. She left behind a son, whom we all call "Little Dylan".

Lil' Dyl' was the first of Douglas' two grandchildren. The other being that sweet, beautiful little ball of perfection known as Story. So that makes Douglas the grandfather of two more of my favorite people as well. 

Child number two for Douglas was my younger cousin Steven. My gawd that boy tortured my very soul when we were little. He has tried to kill me on more than one occasion I assure you. We were born a year apart and during the same month. His birthday is May 13 and mine is May 23, so even though he is a year younger, when we were little he used to tell me he was OLDER than me because his birthday came first. I wanted to strangle him for that. As we got older though, we got along much better and now, even though I rarely ever see him, I still love him a great deal and I'm glad he's a part of my family.

The baby out of Douglas' brood was a snot faced little brat known as Kayla Ray. I know I sound mean when I call her that, but honestly, she was a snot faced little brat. I used to hide from her. Seriously. I'm six years older than the girl and I used to see her coming out the road towards my house and run inside, lock the door, and hide. She was mean. But she grew out of some of that...SOME of that. I wasn't that close with her when she was a teen...I was off doing my own adult thing and she was doing her own teenage thing and it just never really worked out that we could be close. Now that we are both adults however, I am happy to say that she is a very dear friend of mine. I'm certain I get on her nerves quite frequently, but she loves me so she puts up with me. I no longer hide from her either, but to be fair, this might have something to do with her own kid, Story. I hate to lock the door and hide from Story. I'm not sure how such a sweet, timid child came from Kayla, but I'm not going to question it. Why jinx it, ya know?

So anyway, my Uncle Douglas is the father and grandfather of some pretty grand individuals. That's basically what I know him as...the father and grandfather of my cousins. I'm not particularly close to Douglas and although I see him everyday basically, I hardly ever take the time to stop for conversation. No worries though, I am a Nunn, that is how we do things. People think we are strange because we barely speak, but we get each other just fine that way. I have often said that I think we Nunns could communicate just fine with each other through a series of grunts and facial gestures. That's all it would take. :-)

So today I got to spend some quality time with my uncle. He rode with me and my Aunt Ida up to Ohio to pick up my Dad. Douglas didn't say much from his spot in the backseat of Maisy, but I liked having him back there anyway. He took a nap part of the way, until Ida sneezed and it scared him (he thought the tire had blown out on the car). We talked a little bit about immigration laws, smalltown gossip, work, the economy, politics, and Yankees (not the team, but the folks living above the Mason Dixon line). He didn't say a whole lot, but he did contribute. It was nice.

I wish I could say that there was some sort of breakthrough in my somewhat distant relationship with my uncle, but that would be a lie. We aren't best friends now or anything like that, but it was nice to just have the time to sit and listen to his tone of voice, the way he pronounced his words, or the stories he would tell about his grandbabies. :-) Why? Because someday, I won't be able to do that. Douglas isn't old or anything like that, but life moves by pretty quickly and one day when the people you have in your life right now are gone from you, it is the littliest of things that you want to remember...like the sound of their voice or one really good memory with that person. Today I got both. It made the long drive to Ohio not so long, not so miserable.

I hope he can say the same.