Uncle Oliver Chisolm's Birthday

Uncle Oliver (1919-2008) was my favorite uncle...
They were (those Chisolms, my mother's people) high-tempered yet gentle. Predictable yet unpredictable. Admirable yet pitiful. Blustery yet non-assuming. Mannerly yet crude. Deceptive yet straightforward. Poor in one way and rich in another...
When I was a kid they all loved me. They played with me and joked with me all the time. They captured my imagination.
When they would see me in town, they would reach in their pocket and give me a dime or a quarter, whatever they had to spare. They were my heroes then.
When I got up in high school, I saw how limited they were in their grasp of world affairs due to a lack of formal education. It was then I quit seeing them as heroes and started feeling ashamed for them.
It would embarrass me when my friends would see them spitting snuff and tobacco juice on the street.
I could see their engaging histrionics now, their changing moods at the drop of a hat, their general craziness. Me and some of my cousins started to chuckle behind their backs at their crazy behavior.
That burdens and grieves me now, when I look back and think about it. They gave me their hearts and their lives, all they had to give.
They gave me a spirit of laughter and mischief, a yen for adventure and taking chances.
All you lovable crazy Chisolms, wherever you are. I love you. I'm sorry if I hurt you.
I hope we'll be together again someday, in a family circle. And about the snuff and the chewing tobacco. That's okay too.