My Uncle Donny was born on February 29, 1944, a perfect birthday for him, as mischievous as he can be, I am sure he would have picked leap year as a birthday, if he could have.
My grandparents weren't rich, and they were hard working, as the men and women of their generation had to be. My Uncle was their third child, and from the stories that my Mom has shared with me, he was quite the little boy.
In recent visits with my uncle, he shared a picture that my aunt gave to him, of himself dressed in a big coat, a giant smile on his face, as he was standing among a bunch of chickens. He laughed as he said, he loved kicking those chickens in the butt, and he laughed as he remembered back to those days. The sparkle in his eye made me smile inside, though I do not agree with kicking chickens, this was my Uncle Donny being a boy, as all boys do.
My uncle loved fishing, and running around with 'the Painter boys'. My Mom has told me stories of how he would want to play cowboys and indians, and how she always had to be the indian, and how he would wreck her paper dolls, just like a big brother would do to his little sister. Over the years, I loved hearing Mom's stories of how things were when she was little, and I always felt the love they shared, while she told them.
There was some family conflict, and my uncle felt unworthy, felt like he wasn't good enough, and instead of always feeling like he was letting people down, he decided to move away. I was too young and don't remember when he left, but I remember the sorrow my Mom had not knowing if he was okay or not. She spoke of him often through the years we were all apart, and my love for my uncle grew through the love I felt her expressing, and I felt as though I knew him, too. I felt loss, too.
After 13 years of being away, Donny came home. I remember that my Brittany was just a baby, and we all met at my grandmother's to wait his homecoming. Brittany was taking a nap when he got there, and I just remember smiling and tearing up the whole time. Donny was home, and oh how happy we all were to see him. We were all so glad to have him home once again.
My Uncle Donny and I got along from the get go :) My then boyfriend, Ken, my Uncle, and I would go to Don's Pier to play pool. I had already a bit of pool talent, but my Uncle Donny, now he shot some good pool! He even got to see Minnesota Fats play! One thing I remember about him teaching me tricks, was that he never once told me how to shoot. He told me what he might do, and why he did it, but he always let me make my mistakes, and then tease me when it didn't work out. We had some good times over the pool table, and he was darn good, too!
My Uncle told stories of when he didn't have anywhere to live, times he stayed with some amazing people, and how he had worked hard over the years as a carpenter. There was so much pride in his voice as he told me of things he built and how proud he was that the beautiful things he created were admired by others. He worked hard with his hands, and loved doing it. I wish I had the opportunity to see his beautiful creations, and own them now.
No one can tell a joke like my uncle, and no one is as happy making people laugh as he gets. The smile he gets come from the heart, and I know, because I have that bit of him in me. I'm proud to say, it's the same love for smiles my Mom has. Nothing cheers a broken spirit like making smiles, and I know that my uncle has created many a' room of uncontrollable laughter! I've been in a few of them!
Some would look at my Uncle like a vagabond, like just a poor man, with nothing substantial in his possession. Some may look at him like he is a bad person, as we all make mistakes, and as much as I put my uncle high on a pedestal, he has made mistakes, and has admitted to them. He is straight with you, and knows there just ain't no foolin God. Some would look at him as just a man that thumbed it around, and didn't make much of himself. But it is for that person, that I write this. I want that person to know, that he was far from lowly, and ever so prosperous in life, and in giving life to others.
Though my uncle didn't make all of the right choices in life, he worked hard, with his hands, he was a carpenter, like Jesus. My uncle fished, to feed himself and his friends, some newly made, it mattered not, my uncle was not selfish. When my sister's house burned on Christmas Eve one year, he went through his very few belongings, and gave what he could to help, and made sure he showed he cared. He broke bread with people that other's wouldn't give the time to even care about, and genuinely cared about them, just like Jesus did. My uncle was falsely accused of things, and made out to be a terrible person, and took many cuts in his heart, and forgave those very hurts inside, and is at peace with life, and how things went. He feels remorse for hurts he caused and he said recently, he feels he is good with The Big Guy upstairs, and seeing the love and forgiveness in his heart, I know he is right.
My uncle by no means can be compared to Jesus, however, I do not know of a single person that has touched so many hearts with love and laughter, and I rightly couldn't count them all myself, and I don't know many people so quick and willing to give to others, when he himself didn't have much at all himself. And I don't know someone who is as humble as he, living grateful everyday of his life, when he had so many hardships he could have complained about, he is the shining example in my heart. He is a loving, giving man, with a big heart. He's a lover, not a fighter, he'd tell you, and though we all make our mistakes, I can say, I am proud to be the niece, of such a beautiful soul, named Donald Mark Walters <3
Bob Seger, "Against The Wind"......... the song of my uncle's life <3
It seems my post a about my uncle has given some family members indication I was putting then down. I was not. When I said there was conflict before my uncle disappeared for 13 years, I didn't accuse anyone. All families have conflict and I wrote this blog so that no blame was put on anyone. I know Donny felt like he was letting everyone down, because I myself had talks with him and he told me that he felt that way. I wasn't even born at that time and I wouldn't dare assume something like that. I didn't place blame on anyone, only told the story as I know it.
ReplyDeleteIt is a sad shame that family can act so hateful about a blog that was meant to show the loving and giving heart of a man that was looked down on his whole life. When I say that, I know that's what happened, again, from talks with Donny. He was homeless a lot and don't tell me you haven't seen someone looking down on a person with a harder life than them.
I did not post this blog to make Donny sound like a saint, because he isn't. I didn't post this blog to make anyone assume I am a saint, or that I had the best relationship with him over anyone. The facts are facts, and if he was able to tell you now, he would tell you that we always were close from the start.
To me, Donny is an amazing heart in human form. No one, no matter how malicious they may act, can take that away. My heart bleeds that people just have to take things and make them into hate. These same family members claim to care, yet let their own hate stand in the way of feeling what real love is within a family.
Donny is no saint, neither am I, but no one can take away what we have, no matter how much hate spews from their mouths.
When my uncle is so very sick and dying, members of my family would rather fight and try to say how much better they loved him, yet I say, I hope they do love him that much, because he deserves it.