I know family reunions aren’t new, people everywhere get together with their relatives for food, fun and just to socialize. I never really had any family reunions in my family until a few years ago when one of my aunts decided that we should start having them. She hosted the first one and it turned out well. After that one of my uncles on the other side of the family thought it was a great idea and he decided that we should do that too - so now my mom‘s side of the family and my dad‘s side of the family set the stage for the family reunions. I didn‘t get to go to the one on my father‘s side of the family because I couldn’t‘ take off work, but after the reunion I heard rumors that the family had decided that the next reunion was going to be in Vegas. My family is the only one that lives in Vegas so it would be up to us to plan it. I had strong objections to it because I didn‘t want to get stuck doing everything. To make things worse, both sides of the family decided they wanted the next reunion to be in Vegas. I protested, but was told that we would have a committee formed by each family‘s oldest son or daughter to help out. I thought I could live with that, so the reunion was set for Vegas July 9^th - 11^th 2010.

I’m not a great planner, I’m more of a procrastinator than anything else. The thing I got going for me is that I believe everything, no matter how bad it seems always turns out well in the end. It seems to happen all the time, but the planning for the reunion was not going so well. If there was a committee set up, I never heard from the members. One of my cousin’s was supposed to have everyone send him recipes so we could put together a family recipe book but I think he only got two and one was my Spam and Hevuoes recipe, so the redipe book was never made. My uncles were supposed to send me pictures of the previous reunion so I could set up a slideshow, but I never got the pictures so thee would be no slide show

The date for the family reunion was getting closer and I felt like I was on a speeding train heading for a major crash. It was going to be a disaster and it was going to have my name all over it - I had a bad feeling about it. I need another year to complete planning it, but I didn’t have that time. I had two days to pull it all together and it still seemed like there was so much to do. Family has already started to arrive and I wasn’t even sure if we were going to have the original welcome dinner where we would pass out the welcome bags that my sister-in-law Edith, Aunt Gloria, Aunt Lupe and the kids had glued cards, dice, and fake gems on to them to make them look “Vegasy”

I didn’t think we would have the dinner because we found out that the place where we were going to have it didn’t rent out the room anymore. We had been told everything was set but at the last minute we had no place to host the dinner. We couldn’t have it at my house because as luck would have it, the air-conditioner blew out before the reunion and there was no way I could have all those people in a house without air during the hot Vegas summer, so we called my sister and we transported tables and chairs to her apartment. On the day of the dinner they (my sister, my cousins Zack, Samantha, and some of my sister’s friends) were working on setting up tables and getting the place ready - they literally had things set up moments before the arrival of the first family members, who happen to show up two hours early because of the time zone difference

Originally we decided that we would have Mexican food and my mom was going to cook it, but as time got closer and the stress started to mount we decided that it might be better to have someone else help. One of my mom’s friend’s made little fried pin-wheels that are pretty popular here - you spray lemon juice and hot sauce on them and then eat them. My sister in law Edith and Aunt Francess made the quesadillas with the cactus tortillas and the Hibiscus water, my sister-in-law made the watermelon water just like they serve in Mexico with the broken chunks of ice. The dinner was supposed to be ready by 6:30 so we could start to eat at 7:00 pm, but things don’t always go as planned.

All the while that we’re running around trying to get the last minute stuff finished my brother keeps calling from my sister’s house to tell us that most of my mom’s side of the family is already there and they’ve been waiting since about 5:00. He wanted to know where we’re at and what we were doing. The last call I get from my brother is while I’m driving to my sister’s house with the Mexican waters and a few other things.

“They’re leaving.” he says.

“What?” I ask, “what do you mean they’re leaving?”

“They said they’ve been here long enough and now they’re leaving.”

I thought to myself, this is not how family reunions start on the Hallmark Channel, not that I watch the Hallmark Channel or even know that it exists, I didn‘t know what to so so all I said to my brother was “Ok,” I hung up and let my mom know what was happening. She was visibly upset about it and asked me if I could call my uncle and let him know what was going on.

I called my uncle and at first he doesn’t know it’s me, so I tell him that it’s me his most favorite nephew in the world - we both laugh at that and I explain to him that we have a lot of food and we’re on our way. He tells me that he’s been waiting for two hours - to which I tell him that the dinner was supposed to be at 7:00. He says that my aunt needs to have her insulin so he will see me tomorrow. I figure there’s no point in trying to argue with him, his mind was made up so I say ok we’ll see each other tomorrow.

I tell my mom what happened and she takes the phone and calls my aunt and basically tells her the same thing I told my uncle, then she hangs up and tells me “they’re just going back to the room to get her insulin and then they’ll go to the dinner.” I guess you just have to talk to the boss to get things done.

When I arrived at my sister’s house I was greeted by my cousin Leslie’s boyfriend Ray. He drove my Uncle Roy from Texas to Vegas because my uncle couldn’t fly due to a recent stroke he had. From what I understand I don’t think he really knew if he was going to make the reunion until a few days before when the doctor’s okayed him to drive. Ray introduced himself, “I’m Ray, I’m your uncle’s driver.”

Later I would tell Ray that for some reason when I heard my Uncle Roy had a driver I didn’t think I would like him. I had no reason not to like him, just a feeling that I wouldn’t. Ray answered with, “that’s ok, most people think they won’t like me when they first meet me.” After that we became fast friends - now, I have a feeling that if you leave us together for very long there will be some trouble somewhere.

We passed out the welcome bags that had Vegas information, a special Family Reunion Poker Chip, Family Reunion bottled water, a deck of cards, a flashing Welcome to Las Vegas lapel pin, and various other things. I didn’t know if the people were going to like that, but they all seemed happy with their little welcome bag.

Everything was unloaded, the food and drinks were served and everyone seemed to have a good time.

Mentally I checked off - Welcome Dinner, Check

I know I’ve been AWOL from the blogging world for a bit, one of the main reasons is that I have a family reunion coming up in July. The thing about this reunion that is different from other reunions is that it’s going to be for both my mom and my dad’s side of the family. The way this happened is that after their initial reunions both families decided that the next one should be held here in Vegas, and since my family is the only one that lives here it fell on us - when I say us, I mean mostly me to plan the event. If you know me at all you know that I’m not a great planner and I hate to do anything like this. I guess the main reason I hate this sort of stuff is because a part of me feels like I may fail at it - it’s like what if I plan this whole huge event and then no one shows up. I fear that the night of the main dinner I’ll end up sitting in a huge banquet room with my friends Dave, Tamika, my mom, dad, sister, brother and their families and the banquet organizer who will look at me and think, “Wow, nobody showed up for his reunion. It must suck not to be loved by your own family.”

He may even come up to me and say, “This is really awkward, and I feel bad for you since no one showed up for your reunion - I really do, but you will still have to pay for all this food.”

I’ll respond with a dazed, confused look on my face, “just wrap it up. I’ll eat it for lunch.”

“Sir, you know this is enough food for 100 to 150 people?”

I’ll take another swallow from my drink and say, “I’ll eat that for the rest of the week.” I’ll point to my drink, “keep these coming until I pass out or the tab reaches the minimum five hundred dollar mark we need to reach so there won’t be an additional fee.”

“Sir, you know you’re drinking straight Dr. Pepper. It’s highly unlikely that you’ll pass out drinking Dr. Pepper.”

“Just thinking of drinking five hundred dollars worth of Dr. Pepper makes me want to pass out.”

Ok, ok I know it’s unlikely that things will turn out that way, especially since some people already have told me they were going to come, but I still worry - what will I do if no one shows up?

It’s late and I’m sitting at my computer drinking Iced tea. I should be sleeping because I have to work early tomorrow but I can’t sleep. I’m just sitting here thinking, thinking about my past and about the people of my past. I think about my grandfather who never seemed to call me by my name and even today I still have doubts that he even knew what it was. I think about how as kids we found a $100 bill in one my aunt’s jackets and how we decided to walk to the store and buy so much candy that if had eaten it all on that date we would sill be suffering from bad stomach aches, but tonight mostly I think about my Uncle Roy. It’s funny because up until this moment I didn’t realize just how much I looked up to my Uncle Roy, not did I realize the influence he has had on my life. As I think on the past I remember how he never used to wear socks. I know that’s a funny thing to remember about someone, but my Uncle Roy was a funny guy. I guess this is the first thing I remember about his is because obviously he never wore socks, but the funny thing is that every time someone asked him why he didn’t wear socks he would answer with, “I can’t wear socks and underwear at the time so if I’m wearing socks that means I’m not wearing underwear.” I used to think that was so funny - as a matter of fact, I hardly ever wear socks myself and when people ask me why I don’t wear them, I answer the same way my uncle used to “I can’t wear socks and underwear at the same time so if I’m wearing socks that means I’m not wearing underwear.”

I’m sure that makes my mom proud to hear.

Anyway, when I think of my Uncle Roy one the first and most vivid images that comes to mind is of him sitting with the family around him as he plays guitar and leads everyone in gospel songs. My grandfather was a preacher in the bible belt so religion was always important as I grew up. I have to admit that at times some of his fire and brimstone sermons were a bit scary especially when I was a kid, but the thing I did love was when we got together and sang the church songs and my Uncle Roy was always up there leading everyone, playing the guitar, and singing louder than everyone else.

As a kid, I remember watching him as he interacted with other people. He was so good with people. He could make the strangest stranger feel like he was part of the family. I used to think, “when I grow up I want to be able to do that.” Well, I’m grown up and still can’t do that. I guess it’s one of his gifts. I don’t think my Uncle Roy really knows how I feel about him because I’ve never told him and I doubt that he ever realized that I used to look up to him.

We have a family reunion next month, that’s part of the reason why I haven’t written much - I’m supposed to be the one planning it because it’s here in Vegas - My Uncle Roy is supposed to be here even after he had a health scare recently and many feared for him. He pulled through his crisis and I have no doubt that the strength of his family and friend’s faith and prayers had a lot to do with his speedy and miraculous recovery. Maybe during the reunion I’ll let him know - one sockless guy to another, but the truth is that I probably won’t even mention it to him. Maybe he’ll just read this one day and know, or maybe, somehow he already knows.

Sometimes the strangest things happen at work. For example, it wasn’t too long ago that an older patient came up to one of the clerks to check out. As he was standing before her desk the clerk noticed that the zipper to his pants was down. The clerk said that she noticed the zipper was down and wondered, “what’s that thing hanging out?” It didn’t take her long to figure out what the thing was. She said she pushed away from her desk and thought to herself, “His Pee-Pee is hanging out.” Apparently the older man wasn’t wearing any underwear and his penis was sticking out of his unzipped fly.

After the initial shock of seeing old guy’s penis hanging out of his unzipped fly my co-worker started laughing uncontrollably. I don’t know if I would have done the same in that situation. I just don’t think that most guys in general would laugh at another guy’s penis, especially if you’re sitting at your desk and the other guy is standing on the other side so his penis is hanging just about at eye level.

To be honest, I think I would have said something like, “Sir, your fly is open and you can keep that pen you’re using and anything else you touched on my desk.”

My co-worker told the man, “Sir, your zipper is down and your … uh …. Well, your thing is hanging out.” She then added. “If you want we can get someone to help you with that.” She turned to my other male co-worker and asked, “Chris, can you help this man with his zipper?”

Chris turned and said something along the lines of “I ain’t touching that.”

At this point I was laughing - I tried not to, but it was just too funny not to laugh.

The patient said, “Mama, I can handle it myself. It’s embarrassing enough already.” The man tucked his penis into his pants, zipped them up, and went on his way as if nothing out of the ordinary had just taken place.

I went up to my co-worker Chris and said, “Dude, you should have helped him. That would made for some awesome customer service. I bet you would have even gotten an award for that.”

He looked at me with a strange look on his face. “Shut up. I’m not going to touch some guys dick and zip up his pants for him.”

“Dude,” I said, “you could have gotten a customer service award, maybe even a fifty-nine minute early out.”

“I don’t care. I’m not touching some other guy’s dick.” We were laughing about it now.

I said, “I would have written the letter for you.”

“Shut up.“

The letter would have gone something like this:

To Whom it may concern:

Please consider my co-worker Christopher for a customer service award. Today we had an older patient come in who seemed to lack any stamina at all. He just seemed to be dragging his entire body along. Not only did the gentleman lack stamina or energy but it seems that he might be a bit on the forgetful side as well, since he had forgotten to zip his pants and for whatever reason had decided to go commando for the day, so he was not wearing any underwear. Maybe he forgot to put them on. Christopher noticed that the man was just hanging out, flapping in the wind and he did what a lesser man would not do. He rose to the occasion and helped the patient tuck his penis back in his pants and carefully zipped him back up so there would not be any unnecessary pinching. If this is not going above and beyond in the customer service department, then I don’t know what is. Please consider Christopher for an award as it’s not everyday that a man tucks another man’s penis in and zips him up.

Thank-you

Tony

The other day a friend of mine asked me if I wanted to try a new Tai restaurant that opened near my house. He said it would be his treat because he had met the daughter of the owners at a party and she had given him a ten dollar off coupon. I didn’t have to think long about it - tai food is always good especially when your friend is paying for it, even if he has a free coupon. I agreed to our little “bro-date” and let him pick me up since the restaurant was close to my house. Hey with the price of gas, it’s best to save when you can.

It was a small place with great ambiance and the owners were both very nice to us. They treated as if we were the only people in the whole place, especially when they found out that my friend knew their daughter. The food was great. The music was great. This whole place was great. As I was eating I looked up at my friend and out of nowhere said, “The Zombie Apocalypse could be happening right outside this window and I wouldn’t even notice it.

My friend stuffed his face with sushi and said, “ that would be so cool to just be able to run around and shoot zombies in the head.“ I didn’t even pay too much attention to his statement because I thought it was pretty dumb and he was just making a statement, but then he asked, “So, tell me, if you could fuck a zombie girl would you?”

I looked up from my plate and simply asked, “Huh?”

“You know“, my friend seemed to get all serious as he continued. He leaned closer to me. “If you could, would you have some zombie sex. Would you bone a zombie if you could. I think it would be cool. She’d be yelling and growling and I’d be like whoo hoo” As he spoke my friend twisted his face into what I guessed was a zombie impression and shook his head from side, growling as he did so, then he switched and started making sexual faces and acting like he was slapping zombie ass. “Whoo, hooo!”

“Dude, I don’t know about you.” this was just plain dumb and I told him so. “Dude, this is just stupid. Everyone knows you can’t have sex with a zombie - If you had sex with a zombie you would turn into a zombie too because of the transmission of bodily fluids. And besides, she would probably eat your brains before you even had a chance to … you, know…” I made a circle with the thumb and finger of one hand and slid the finger of my other hand in and out the hole.

“what is that?” my friend asked as I continued to slide my finger back and forth through the hole my other fingers had created.

“Dude, it’s the universal sign for penetration. I bet even freakin’ zombies know what that means.” I stopped making the sign as the owner walked by and looked at me. I smiled, she didn’t.

“Is the disease in the salvia and other fluids or just in the blood? “ Ha asked laughing at the fact that I had been caught doing the universal symbol for penetration by the restaurant’s owner.

“I don’t know, I guess it depends on which movie you’re watching.” I took a drink of my tea and looked up at the owner again. I smiled once more, once more she did not. She looked away. I said, “I guess you could have sex with a girl as she’s turning into a zombie.”

My friend looked at me like I had just invented ice cream. His eyes lit up and his voice went up an octave with excitement. “Yeah, that would be great. She’d be thrashing around, growling and trying to bite me.” He rolled his eyes back in his head and snapped his teeth a few times, then he continued. “I’d be slapping some zombie ass” He smacked the air with his right hand and moved his body up and down almost as if he were riding a horse, then he started making his crazy sexual faces again as his breathing come faster and faster “Don’t turn yet, not yet…oh….oh…don’t urn…not yet…oh… ohhhhh.

I looked around and wondered where the owner was during this little bit of dramatics from my friend. “I have a feeling this conversation is going to end up in my blog.” I said aloud.

My friend just laughed and then he asked me the strangest question of the day, “Would you eat out a zombie?”

“Dude, that’s disgusting. And, no, I wouldn’t …”

He didn’t let me finish my sentence he just kept on with the zombie talk. “Do you think she’d have crotch rot? You think it would be all slimly and decaying down there? I mean not all zombies are dead and decaying sometimes it’s just a virus that affects them and makes them go on a rage, so they may not even have crotch rot. They may have perfectly good crotches.”

“Dude, I’m not even talking to you anymore…”

The reason Stan Lee was walking around the Plams is because he was given a star on the walkway of the Brenden Movie Theater at the Palms so he was there to unveil it. It was the Palms big promotion for the Ironman II movie. Not only was Stan Lee there but so were other comic artists and writers. I didn’t get to meet all the comic book people that were in attendance, however I did get to meet legendary comic creators David Michelinie and Bob Layton.

They were signing a special limited edition Ironman print for the premiere of the movie at the Palms theater. One of the things I wondered as I watched all these kids dressed in Ironman shirts, caps, etc was how does it feel to see all these kids wearing something that you created, so I asked Mr. Layton that question. He said that a lot of the stuff they have these days is really cool and when he sees it he wishes he had money to buy it all. I looked at him sort of funny and then he said, “Seriously, I wish I could afford all the things I see out there.” He went on to say that although he’s drawn some Iconic characters, he doesn’t own the characters - they belong to Marvel Comics so he doesn’t get royalties on the merchandise that is sold.

I was a bit surprised by that statement, but then he surprised me further when the head of the Brenden Theaters at the Palms told him that he and Mr. Michelinie would be out at the signing table for another few minutes then they would go to a private party. I should mention that the limited edition Ironman prints were free, they were just asking for a donation to go to help with children’s literacy. When the head of the theater told Mr. Layton that he only had a few more minutes to sign he told him that he would rather sit there all day and sign to help raise more money for the charity. He said he didn’t need to be at a private party and that besides no one would even know if he was there or not. He said he would rather be out “here” with all the fans. I don’t know if he went to the party or if he stayed and signed more prints but just the fact that he was willing to give up that private party and stay with the fans was really cool to me.

Here is what the print looks like….

 

I’m not going to give a review or thoughts on the film because it seems like a lot of people are saying the first one is better, but I’ll let you decided that for yourself. I will say that Scarlett Johansson is smoking’ hot as Black Widow. I'm pretty sure if he was around now, this is one of the images Geeky, Teenage Tony would use as he took one of those forty-five minute showers that teenage boys take.

　

On that note, I better head to work. Take care and let me know what you think of the film.

A long time ago …

In a country far, far away I was a kid living on a military base, far from home, waiting for a special showing of the greatest movie I had ever see in my young life - Star Wars. I had already seen The Empire Strikes Back on video and I had actually seen Star Wars on video tape as well, but this was a special showing of Star Wars at the Armed Forces Theater many years after it was released in the states. This was Star Wars as it was meant to be seen… on a larger than life movie screen in surround sound.

I remember it was winter when they had the showing because there was snow on the ground. For months they had advertised this special showing. I had a flyer that was printed on yellow paper safely tucked in my trunk of treasures. In my trunk of treasures I had all my childhood things that were special to me including my coin collection, some old comic books my Uncle Luis gave me, and a lucky Silver Dollar coin my grandfather gave me as hugged me before we left the States. I remember being so excited about the whole experience from the time I saw the first yellow, photocopied flyer and begging my parents to take my brother and myself to see it. We had to see it even if it meant shoveling the snow from the front of our quarters, to going to school every single day, to being nice to each other and not fighting when my brother crossed the invisible line that separated his side from mine in the backseat.

It seemed like forever before the night arrived for this one night special showing, but it came and we were ready for it. My mom had decided to make it a day for my brother and myself. She took us to the Base Exchange where we were allowed to buy some of the brand new Star Wars figures they had brought in for the showing. My brother bought a Han Solo and Chewbacca and I got an R2-D2 and Darth Vader. The base exchange, the Armed Forces Theater and the NCO club were all clustered together so we parked in the middle and walked from one place to the other in the snow.

After going to the Base Exchange we went to the NCO Club and had an early dinner. I remember sitting by window watching as people began to line up at the theater for the movie and I was worried that we wouldn’t be able to make it into the theater. I was afraid the movie would sell out and I’d miss the one thing I’d looked forward to since I saw that yellow photocopied sheet of paper announcing the “Once in a Lifetime SPECIAL SCREENING of THE GREATEST MOVIE EVER” it was “the story of a boy, a girl and a universe.” My mom reassured me that we would get in and I deep inside I knew we would but even so, I worried. My brother ate his food slowly not worried at all - he was a more rational thinker and he knew we would get in. He knew we would get in because we had been going to the movies almost every weekend since we moved to the military base in Heidelberg Germany, so everyone who worked at the theater knew my brother and myself. The fact that my father had taken a part-time job at the theater was also a big plus.

I ate my food quickly and waited impatiently as my brother and mother finished their meal. I kept asking if they were finished every five minutes. The answer was always the same - almost. Finally, they finished and we began our walk through the slush of melting snow toward the theater. We walked right up to the door and were led in by my father’s friend “Mac” I don’t remember what his real name was all I know is that the entire time I knew him we called him “Mac.” He gave my brother a chocolate bar and I got some gummy bears as he led us into the empty theater. We found the best seats in the very center of the theater and sat there. It wasn’t long before more people started coming in. In just a few minutes the entire theater was filled with people, many wearing shirts with pictures of their favorite characters.

In the excitement of the whole experience I reached over and hugged my brother and he hugged me back. As soon as we realized what we were doing we both jumped back as if an electric shock had passed between us. The lights dimmed and we stood and placed our hands over our hearts for the Pledge of Allegiance. The curtain opened on the screen and the theater went dark. Everyone started cheering when the 20^th Century Fox logo came on the screen, but the crowd really went crazy when the blue letters faded on the screen:

“A long time ago in a galaxy far far away …”

I just sat there, quietly watching as the magic unfolded before my eyes on a larger than life screen.

A friend told me about some sort of wonder cure-all soup that’s supposed to be full of antioxidants and all the good stuff our bodies need. She swears this soup will help with anything that may be bothering you and she added “It will help you lose weight.” I wondered what she meant by that? Sure I’ve put on a few pounds in the last few years, but I think so have most of the people that I know. I didn’t think I needed some sort of wonder, cure-all soup to help me lose weight then I thought about something my four year old niece said to me. She came up to me the other day and showed me her hand and said that her hand was like our family. She pointed at each of her fingers saying each family member’s name, “this is mommy, this is my brother, this is gramme, this is po-po,” then she pointed at her thumb and said, “this one is you because it’s the fat one.” Everyone thought it was funny, much more funny than I thought it was - although I have to admit that I did laugh when she said that. As I laughed about it an old saying came to mind, something about only drunks and children telling you the truth, so I decided that maybe I did put on a few too many pounds on this year, so maybe this wonder, cure-all soup that would help me lose weight was not such a bad thing to . The first thing I had to do was go to Trader Joe’s for some of the ingredients because the truth be told, I don’t usually have the stuff it takes to make an antioxidant cure-all soup in my cupboards - now ask me if I have the stuff to make smores and that’s a whole different story.

I love Trader’ Joe’s because I go there so often that most of the employees already know me by name and it’s always a good feeling to walk in a store and have people greet you by name. The first thing I do when I go to Trader Joe’s is head for the demo area and grab a cup of coffee and then have a sample of whatever they are demonstrating that day. It’s funny because I’m not really a coffee drinker - I just started drinking coffee, so I drink it fairly week and pour lots of milk into it. For a while I didn’t drink any coffee other than the small sample cups at Trader Joe’s but I’ve progressed to a cup every once in awhile during work, especially during those long, snore-fest Monday and Thursday morning conference call meetings.

Another thing I like about Trader Joe’s is the rustic, artisan bread. I thought I would buy some and hollow it out into a bread bowl for my wonder soup - I know, I’m adding more carbs to the soup and probably taking away all the wonder from it’s wonder properties, but it’s really good bread. Well, as I finished gathering the ingredients for this wonder soup and putting them in my basket, I went to the bread section and that’s when I saw an old lady sneeze into her hands, rub her hands together like she was using some sort of nose mucus hand sanitizer, and then she started to reach into the packages of artisan bread, feeling each loaf, I guess to find the softest, freshest one. She did this like it was not out of the ordinary for her to rub her mucus covered hands over loaves of bread. “Oh man,” I thought to myself, “I like that bread and now I’ll never be able to buy it again without wondering if an old lady touched my bread with slimy booger hands.” I guess if I want to think on the positive -this is a good way to cut down on the carbs.

The next few days are lost from my memory. I don’t remember much other than at times just sitting in a daze, thinking about things, but then not really thinking about anything at all. People would come and talk to me, but I can’t remember what anyone said. I remember that for most of that time I hated God because I felt like he took Christy away. How could someone so merciful be so cruel? Yet, there were moments when my heart would open up and I could feel Him and all I wanted to do was run to Him and let Him hold me in His arms while I cried like a little kid.

Later, we would learn from witnesses driving behind my cousin and her husband that they had been fighting in the car. According to one witness, my cousin started slapping her husband when he lost control of the car. The car rolled four times before coming to rest on it’s side. They also said that a little girl’s body was thrown through the front windshield. At first they thought it was a doll because that‘s what it looked like - she looked like a child‘s doll being carelessly thrown out the window. According to the witness it all seemed “so unreal.“ The police would later tell us that Christy was the only one not wearing a seat belt.

My mom and my cousin were the ones that went to identify the body. Later that night, while standing outside the emergency room my cousin would tell me, “I wish I hadn’t gone and seen her like she was. Her nose was sliced off, one eye was gone and the other was hanging…”

I remember yelling and covering my ears. “Shut up!’ I grabbed him by the collar and shoved him as hard as I could against the wall. “Just shut the fuck up!” I was crying. “I don’t want to hear that! I don’t want to remember her like that…” For years afterwards those images would fill my thoughts and dreams. “I don’t want to remember her like that!”

The hardest thing for me to deal with was the funeral. I don’t know why but for some reason it was even harder to deal with than the actual confirmation of Christy’s death by the doctor in the little room where my family had gathered. I looked at the small, white casket as The Father spoke about the earthly shell dying, but the spirit remaining alive and going to a place much greater than where we were at now. I didn’t hear much of the sermon after that, I didn’t want to hear anymore. I sat there clutching a small bunch of pink roses and a teddy bear with the words “I love you beary much” written across the front of it’s shirt and all I could think was that I wanted Christy back. I would do anything to have her back. I asked God to change things and take me instead, just to please bring her back. Four year old kids aren’t supposed to die.

Images of the past went through my mind, but then I imagined the future too. I imagined Christy going to school and crying because she wasn’t used to being away from home. I imagined her drawing turkeys out of an outline of her hand that would proudly be displayed on the refrigerator door. I imagined what she would look like in a girl scout uniform selling cookies outside the grocery store down the street. I thought how terrified I would be at the notion that she was learning to drive. I thought about how happy she would be when she found the person of her dreams and how I would sit in the church pew with tears in my eyes as I watched her get married. I thought of how all that was taken from her, she would never do any of those things.

As I walked by the casket one last time before it was lowered into the ground I laid the roses and the small teddy bear on top of it and as I did, I was hit by finality and reality of her death. Christy was dead and no matter how hard I prayed, no matter how much I cried, no matter if I threw myself on the ground and kicked and screamed nothing was going to bring her back. I would never see Christy again. Everything after that is now just a blur of images; people leading me away from the casket, stopping to hug someone or to be hugged, crying and then finding myself in the backseat of the car not knowing how I got there.

It would take me a year before I could find the strength to go back to the cemetery. My eyes filled with tears as I laid a single pink rose on the small heart headstone that simply read: “Baby Girl” and her date of birth and date of death.

Many times I tried to go back to the lake but I couldn’t. It was too difficult. It would be many years after her death that I would finally find the strength to go back to the spot where she lost her life.

As I stood on the bank of the lake watching the sun set on the water, I couldn’t help but feel like I should be somewhere else. I should be doing something else. I should be anywhere except there. I picked up a small, smooth stone and skipped it across the water, a trick one of my father’s Army friends had taught me a long time ago when I was a kid. I’ve never been the kind of person that wishes he could go back and do things differently, but as I watched the rock skip along the surface of the water then sink to the bottom of the lake I couldn’t help but wonder, what if I had done things differently? Would things be different? Would my life be different? Would I be different?

“I love you, and you, and you…”