One particular afternoon while my uncle and his girlfriend were visiting from Manitoba, my mom was prepping for an evening meal & she asked me to help put together a salad. My mom’s salads have always been best: super fresh, crisp iceberg lettuce, peppers, cucumber, celery, sometimes egg- and most importantly, little cubed blocks of delicious cheddar or marble cheese. I snuck one cube of cheese and let it savour in my mouth, then stashed another few for the road as I headed out the door to play. The afternoon went on, us kids were in & out of the house, through the kitchen, across to the bedrooms, always chaos. Every time I ran through, I'd pause, grab a few cubes of cheese and think nothing of it. Apparently this was a much bigger deal than I thought, as by the time suppertime came my mom realized that almost all of the cheese had been picked out of the salad. To my horror [and much denial], it was announced to the entire room that I was the one at fault.
Now, I have always loved my Uncle Earl very much, but teasing children was like a profession for him, and a little girl full of cheese made the perfect topic for terrorizing. 'Oh goodness!' He said, his eyebrows raised with worry. 'You know that if you eat too much cheese, you're going to get all bunged up! You won't be able to poo for days!' Smirking, he spoke to me very seriously, ‘Oh yes, your whole bum is going to be full of cheese!'
Already an easy target, as the youngest of five kids- three of them being boys- this became a fun game throughout the visit. I would try to sneak past unnoticed, Uncle Earl would reach for me, trying to grab an arm- and say 'hey, did you get that cheese out yet?!' Terrified at the idea of my bathroom business being discussed, I would try to escape, embarrassed. Meanwhile, away from parents ears, I was horrified that my siblings had begun to call me 'cheesebum'.
As Earl & Lucille packed up to head out, they were asked to sign the guestbook, as all guests to the little trailer were. 'Earl & Lucille' it was signed, with 1997 or whichever year, 'Corley,’ it said, in little writing in the comments section: 'I hope everything comes out alright!'
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By the visit to the trailer, I had already gained years of experience deflecting my uncle’s teasing- 'hey you know I've seen your bum, right! Oh yes, I changed your diapers all the time when you were little!' he'd say, as he gleefully watched me turn dark red and insist that no way, he never, ever had, nope I did not believe him!
Though far in distance, Uncle Earl had always been present in our lives. He came to Alberta to visit, or stopped in on his way through, headed elsewhere. When I was a child, I held this excitement for our banter, excited to see him and have him tease me while I could poke back at him, we strived off each other's reactions. My little eight-year-old self, calling him on the phone- determined to get even after the cheesebum fiasco, I left him a message asking when he was coming to visit- addressing him only as ‘Uncle Rumbum' (I swear, it felt SO clever at the time). My childhood memories of Earl are colourful and vivid, whether it was him making me blush in front of cute boys I had made friends with at the lake, or the sight of the very big, wet, sloppy kiss he tried to give me through the window of my parents minivan.
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I spent two summers living in Regina, six hours closer than usual to Oak Lake, where both Uncle Earl, and my Auntie Bonnie & Uncle Bill spent their summers in cabins. As many weekends as I could manage, I’d drive east Friday night, landing at the lake late evening, staying until the last possible hour on Sunday before heading back. Those weekends turned into some of the best memories I have, being able to connect with my mom’s siblings as an adult was an absolute treat. I would spend the daytime with my cousins and Auntie Bonnie usually, taking her grandkids to the water or riding bikes with them, taking photos, getting ice caps at the store. Sitting under that hot Manitoba sun, I would wait as the sun set, to hear the fish flies come out, listening for that low buzz in the air. I’d wander over to Uncle Earl’s cabin at night, I usually slept there- on the bottom bunk of his cleverly crafted two-room, bunk-bed design.
Earl would be sitting out on his deck, drinking rum, soaking in the evening air, teasing Patty- his girlfriend who I knew best. Once I sat down he’d insist on making me a drink [not that I’d argue, he made the best damn caesars I’ve ever had], and Patty would cut up some cheese, and bring us chips and fruit to munch on. Uncle Earl was always ready to put on a show, teasing whoever he could get the biggest reaction out of. ‘You’re right, Corley!’ He’d say as Patty walked away, just loud enough for her to hear ‘She does have a big ass!’. Patty knew he was teasing, but always gave him the reaction he was looking for, he would laugh, pretend to be surprised at her reaction and take a sip of his drink, sitting back in his patio chair.
A night owl like me, Earl would stay up sipping and bullshitting until the early hours in the morning, telling stories from his childhood, youth, and about almost anything you can imagine. Hours after the lights at Bonnie’s cabin had turned off, and Patty had retired for the evening, I got my time with Uncle Earl. He could listen almost as well as he could tell stories- from newspaper articles he’d read, to anything he had learned that he thought might be useful to me. Most of all, we talked about family. He told me stories about my mom, my grandparents, what it was like growing up when they did. He talked about my Uncle Barry, who died when I was four, before I had the chance to know him. Every time I visited, I left feeling warm and happy, fulfilled from conversation and grateful for the time spent with my relatives. As light-hearted and goofy as my Uncle Earl was, he was one of the most compassionate and sensitive humans I have ever had the pleasure of spending time with.
The years following my summers in Regina, I didn’t get to see him as much. I missed the time spent at the lake, and did my best to make it there at least once or twice each summer, seeing him & my Auntie Bonnie’s family has always been a priority for me. After a trip to Toronto this past fall, Kale & I rerouted our original path home to pop by Oak Lake and see if anyone was home, just to say hi and have a quick visit. We spent a few hours visiting with Uncle Earl & Patty before heading back over to Bonnie’s to sleep. I am not sure what made me change my mind, lengthening our travel time to include Manitoba on our tight schedule, but I am very glad I did. The magical summers of floating from Uncle Earl to Auntie Bonnie’s cabin are gone. While the cabins still stand, it will never be the same without him there, sitting on the deck, looking for someone to tease, sipping on his drink in his denim jacket and suspenders. My Uncle Earl was a very special man, and I am very lucky to have had him in my life. Rest Easy Uncle. <3
