It must've been somewhere in the summer
after my Senior year of High School when, just like a few years earlier when number six came along, Dad called us in for an announcement: “Your Mother and I are going to be
adding another baby to the family. Sometime next Spring number seven
will arrive!” And did he ever arrive! On this day those 30 34 years
ago, Ronald Lee Huff joined our family and we've never been the same
– a good thing!!
Unfortunately for me I was off to
college when he was born but I still remember Mom flying to South
Florida from Kansas with an 8-week old boy so she and he could be
with me and my older sister for a week or so. It was some kinda hot
and the little brother made some kinda noise, but it was all good!
A few years later I was home for a year
and was around for Ronnie's birthday-suit trek through the
neighborhood and his attempt to climb on the roof at age 3. I still
remember how determined he was to get up there and help us on that
hot, steep roof. One time he climbed a radio tower up to the eave of
the roof. Mom was the only one home with him and had to climb up and
retrieve him herself! Even though I was not home a lot during those
years, I always remember how huggable and lovable he was as a boy, a
lot of fun for the family and all who knew him.
As he grew into elementary school it
slowly became just he and older brother Robb at home with Mom and Dad
because the rest of us were gone with our own families or college or
work. Robb and Ron were close buddies. Then when Ron was nine we
all suffered the loss of Dad. After 20 years it still hits you in
the gut, and perhaps Ronnie most of all. I still remember Ronnie –
nine years old, trying to take it all in, resting in the strengthening
presence of family. After the graveside gun salute he was
gathering the spent brass cartridges out of the grass. He held out
his hand to show me 9 cartridges: “I saved nine of these for the
nine years I had with Dad.” This was Ron – thoughtful, tender,
missing the biggest man in his life, and knowing enough to always
remember.
In the years to come and up through
High School we always loved it when he and Robb could visit our home
with Mom. He always had a ready smile and laugh, and we loved
him so much. Couldn't help ourselves. I remember once after our
first son was born and Ronnie was visiting. He went out to ride
around with me and he was old enough by then to help me some. He was only eleven so I should have known
better, but I found myself pushing him, insisting that he 'get busy'.
I didn't let up very well either, mean ol' big brother that I was!
And then I noticed that he was just quiet and thoughtful – not
doing much. “What are you thinking?” I asked. He took a moment
before he replied. “Life isn't just all work you
know," he said. "Just 'cause I want to be out here with you doesn't mean I'm
wanting to work all the time.” It was late, cold and he was right -- "wanting to be with me". There's a life lesson in that. Maybe a 30-year old guy could think of something more fun to do with
his eleven-year old brother than work and more work. Ya think?
And so
along the way we have had a great deal of fun. I wish I could
remember some of the jokes. They were often nearly unspoken. One
time in particular we were in Indiana for Thanksgiving, enjoying a
domino game around the table. He would've been about fifteen I guess and
we had discovered a very kindred spirit, meeting somewhere in the
exquisite world of “Far Side” and “Calvin and Hobbes.” The
worst of it was that we could seldom make our remarks without busting
into uncontrollable laughter. Before one of us could finish some
wise-crack, the other knew where it was going and we would lose it.
The rest of the table had no idea how whatever-it-was could be so
belly-laugh funny. Maybe we didn't either – it just was,
and this is a special connection
we have always enjoyed.
Another
connection is this sort of crazy love of
big-word-talk, for lack of a better description. It goes something
like this: Instead of asking “Why did the chicken
cross the road?”, Ron might proffer the following:
“Should inquisitions propose grammar leading to quest of determining poultry motive in situations where horseless carriage ambulations must be transversed by said poultry, such determinations shall be disallowed from being sought via annoying query signs beside said routes of transversing.”
Perfectly clear, right?
My favorite expression of his was when he referred to people as “sentient beings.” It was LOL funny -- after I looked it up to know what it meant. Soon I shamelessly stole it for my own retorts. Of course mystified onlookers wonder what marbles we have left, but we don't mind. We might even describe said state for you if you like!
“Should inquisitions propose grammar leading to quest of determining poultry motive in situations where horseless carriage ambulations must be transversed by said poultry, such determinations shall be disallowed from being sought via annoying query signs beside said routes of transversing.”
Perfectly clear, right?
My favorite expression of his was when he referred to people as “sentient beings.” It was LOL funny -- after I looked it up to know what it meant. Soon I shamelessly stole it for my own retorts. Of course mystified onlookers wonder what marbles we have left, but we don't mind. We might even describe said state for you if you like!
So
there has been a lot of fun, and some hard times along the way as
well. I remember when Ron decided to join the Army. I had the very
poignant privilege of taking him to the airport for his departing
flight to boot camp. The memory of that trip and his departure is
surreal. I wish I could go there again, hug him again and shake his
hand, feel the mix of pride and challenge and knowing life can never
be the same again. We drove some 60 miles and made small talk. My
kid brother had grown up and was going to do something none of us had
done. And it was a life step I will never forget.
I am
so proud of Ron for joining and serving in the Army. He has been
less than enamored with his memories and experiences, not
uncommon I am sure. But the love we all feel for him, and the pride
and appreciation for his service and sacrifice will always be real in
our hearts.
In the
last ten years there were times when Ron lived within a few hours
drive and 2 or 3 times I was able to meet him for his birthday. Once
we met at this cool sub place in Cincinnati. Another time he took me
to a new-to-me Mexican place that served huge portions. It was
always so very good to get together with him, talk about old times,
new times, good times, life. Like always he was funny, thoughtful,
articulate. Good times.
Now he
is 30 and I can't believe it, but I get to take a few minutes and say
something real, something I mean, something like this straight to my
much-loved kid brother: “Hey man, I miss you. Wish Kansas and
Virginia were not far separated by, you know, roads and mountains and
miles and stuff. You OK? Working hard I'm sure – that makes me
happy and proud. I love the memories, Ron, and the blessing of a
brother like you. I'm thankful for the now and all we can know and
love. I believe in a better Tomorrow but am very thankful for all
the todays. Let's stay in touch better – ok?
"That's all for now except to say again, Happy Big 3-0. I hope you have many, many more and that I get to celebrate some of them with you. This thousand miles away stuff just doesn't cut it. Oh and I almost forgot -- I love you, Bro.”
"That's all for now except to say again, Happy Big 3-0. I hope you have many, many more and that I get to celebrate some of them with you. This thousand miles away stuff just doesn't cut it. Oh and I almost forgot -- I love you, Bro.”
Awesome post. I actually started to cry a few times. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDelete-Caleb