My Uncle

After having posted my first real blog entry, I sent it out to my family, and friends. One of my very first responses to that email came from my uncle who has recently moved with his wonderful wife, two magnificent boy, and one very adorable and strong willed princess to Australia.  The household in which I spoke of previously with all its inhabitants, it "spices", had always one very dear friend of mine in it: My uncle Saied.  He lived with us, or rather, I lived with him and my parents under the same roof since before I was born until he married an amazing woman when I was 10 years old.  

One of my earliest memories of my uncle is that he always exhibited an amazing patience with me.  I was three years old and he would play the frisbee with me on the shores of southern Spain.  He was 22 at the time, and now that I am 27, almost 28, I am amazed at the amazing patience, caring, and brilliance he showed with a "snotty" kid – me.  When I turned three, the summer before we spent it in Spain (my parents, uncle, and grandmother), he rang the bell on the day I turned three, and when I opened the door, there he stood with the most beautiful blazing red bike I had ever laid eyes.  He helped me put the training wheels on, and as soon as they were on – I was off to a far distant place where I was the fastest, strongest, and most brilliant biker ever!  I was free to soar as fast as the birds, as fast the fastest man on earth – Superman.  And all this, because I got that blazing red bike from my uncle.  

As I mentioned previously in my post, I love cooking, and I have to be honest and include my uncle, and of course my father into that pool of beginning – the summer barbecues, or to be more precise, the Persian Kabobs!  They were magnificent.  My uncle and father used to marinate chicken, ground beef, or filet mignon for 24 hours before hitting the shores of Stockholm lakes, and later Umeå lakes.  He and my father would let me stand over the fires, making sure it did not go out – giving me my very first taste of responsibility and understanding what consequence meant.  If the fires went out, or if they were too high, the meat would burn or not cook at all – an atrocity my belly could never fathom.  

"I wish we could go back to those times again", were the words I got from my uncle today after he read my first post.  I wish that too.  But, I realize that as adults we have learned how to cherish those moments we had, the adventures we have lived, and still are in.  For those moments, the moments we have today, will be moments we will tell our children, and we will reminiscence with a tear, a happy tear, and truly know and understand what family is.  My uncle is now sharing these very same stories with Stefan, Simon, and Mary, three amazing cousins whom I truly wish I could see everyday.  I have promised them I will visit them soon, and with hope in my heart, and a drive in my mind, I hope to visit them with Amitis this year.

"You cannot imprison a man whose mind is free to soar"

Yashar