Monday, September 10, 2007

Gonna Light This Candle

My Uncle Pete was one of the greatest men I’ve had the honor of knowing. He passed away on August 3, 2007, after a four year battle with cancer. He beat the initial prostate cancer, as most men diagnosed with it do, but then developed cancer elsewhere in his body. He fought it as long as he could, and with as positive an attitude I could ever imagine anyone having. He told his wife, my Aunt Sylvia, that he was gonna beat it. And he meant it!

For four years, he and Sylvia lived it up, during the chemo treatments, during the recessions, and during the chemo treatments again. He made his nurses laugh, as he made everyone laugh during his life. His sense of humor was unmatched, as far as I’m concerned. So was his outlook on life. I learned so much from him, and if I take anything away from being a part of his life, it’s that I need to make every moment count. Sounds cliché, but it’s so true. According to Uncle Pete, “We can always go to Plan B.” As he’d also say, “Trust me. I’m a professional.”

Today at work was the kickoff of the United Way (UW) campaign. I typically don’t formally give to the United Way. My company offers ways to give informally, like through raffles, auctions and casual-day options (meaning we can dress casual for a week, for a $5 donation). That’s how I typically gave to this charity.

My boss was chair of the UW marketing, and I actually designed all the pieces given out to the company. It was a great chance for me to get to design again, and also a way for me to learn more about what UW does for my community.

If we made a formal pledge today (meaning a payroll deduction or one-time pledge), there was a chance to win some cool prizes. That inspired me to read more about the places to which we could designate our pledges. I found one that seemed relevant to me: Cancer Family Care. Their mission is to strengthen the well-being and alleviate the suffering of children, adults and families struggling with cancer. I looked over their website and decided to designate my pledge to them, in honor of Uncle Pete and Aunt Sylvia. I brought my pledge card to the official UW table at lunchtime to put it in the raffle box.

Now, since I designed every piece of collateral that my company saw in regards to the UW campaign, I thought I knew it all. We had several companies that received help from the UW lined up to talk about themselves at the UW table every day during lunchtime. I designed posters for what I thought were all the companies to be represented this week. I guess I was misinformed, because Cancer Family Care (CFC) was the organization present today. When I realized this, I was kind of shocked. I told the executive director, who was the CFC spokesperson present, that I had just decided to designate my contribution to them. After I did that, a respected co-worker told me that his wife worked for them, and they were some amazing people. I mentioned that my Uncle Pete had passed away recently from cancer and that I think some family members may have benefited from their services.

I think it was one of those things that was meant to be. The order of events today was, I guess, serendipitous. In my gut, I knew this organization was good, and then it was confirmed, out-of-the-blue, by someone I respect (the man whose wife works for the CFC).

I miss my Uncle Pete. I will always remember him and his laid-back attitude and sense of humor. I thank God that he was in my life for as long as he was, and I wish everyone had someone like him in their life. At the end, Uncle Pete told his family that he’d had enough of the chemo. He said he was ready to “light this candle.” This was a reference to a commercial that made him laugh hysterically. Even at the end, he was making everybody else laugh.

I only hope I can be half as inspiring to someone as Uncle Pete was to me.

Love you, Uncle Pete. Hope you’re catching big fish in heaven. Also hope you’re not allergic to cats anymore. Pet Burt for me. :)

1 comment:

sylvia said...

Erin ~~
I know what Uncle Pete would say about your essay about him .... he would assume his best "nahh ... that's not me" face, say something flip, like, "Well sure. I'm a professional!" .... then when he was sure no one else was listening, he would (very casually) say to me: "Did you read what Erin wrote about me?" ..... and he would have a very pleased look on his face. No way a "John Wayne Man" would ever get emotional!!
I miss him too.
Love you, Aunt Sylvia