He had his demons, more than most, but he will always be my favourite uncle. The competition, to be fair, is not particularly stiff. I have three, the first, my father’s brother, lives in Germany and I have only met him twice at the time of writing this, the last time thirty years ago. His name is Ruediger. He is an academic with penchant for Renaults and he has two children, cousins who I hardly know.
My second uncle Douglas was a talented artist who tried to kill himself whilst studying at Rhodes University. He attempted to gas himself with the intent to do the job right. His only mistake was to take his dog with him to the deserted beach where he put the plan into motion. He was found by a passerby who followed the sound of relentless barking. The action has left him mentally impaired. He is a good man with a Christian heart and a simple mind. Although he lives in the same city as me I never really see him except at the odd family gathering. We have nothing in common. I do have fond memories of him playing chasing and catching games with me in our grandparent’s backyard when I was little.
This leaves Christopher or just Chris. I haven’t seen Chris in over twenty years. He lives somewhere in the United States. He used to work in New York City as a programmer. He fought a number of battles with alcohol and drug addiction, winning most of them but losing some. He is still with us, so for now at least there is a ceasefire or something greater. I have memories of my parents complaining about bailing him out of prison in the early hours of the morning.
None of my extended family was particularly involved in my childhood. They were people we saw on Christmas, Easter and at the odd family braai, (barbecue for non-South Africans). I cannot say why he is my favourite uncle. He has a sense of compassion about the world that I like and a sadness in his soul that has a certain charisma. He is also incredibly smart and gentle.
One day he decided to take me to the cricket, I’m a big fan. I couldn’t have been much older than seven or eight. I have no memory of who was playing. It was the moment of the Transvaal mean machine, my local provincial cricket team that featured the majority of South Africa’s best cricketers at the time. We were not allowed to play international cricket owing to the Apartheid government so provincial cricket was the pinnacle. I like to think that it was Transvaal that I went to watch with him and that in the end the home team won but that is just for personal embellishment.
When the game was over we went on a bit of an adventure. I thought that I was supposed to go straight home but instead we headed off to a party at a friend of his. If I recall correctly there were a few stops along the way but these are hazy in my memory.
At the party I ate ice cream and watched the sun set, around me adults were drinking. With some consternation about the time I tried to call my folks but they did not answer the phone. As the twilight shifted into night I was moved in front of the TV to be out of the way of the ongoing shenanigans. I can’t be sure but I think my uncle had an in with the lady of the house.
I was beginning to worry that my parents were so worried about me that they were out on the streets driving around desperately searching for me. As an adult looking back this notion was obviously absurd but to my seven year old brain the worry was real and deep. I kept trying to phone them with no luck. I panicked and implored my uncle to take me home. He tried to calm and reassure me that everything was fine. My concerns could not be stifled however and eventually he agreed to take me home but not before the lady of the house told me that I was a rude, ill mannered little boy that was ruining everybody’s fun. With this I burst into tears.
We made a swift exit and I was returned to the arms of my parents who were at home and unconcerned about my whereabouts. They issued the obvious enquiries about the day and I told them the story of my adventures. They comforted me and told me not to fret when I related the incident with the lady of the house.
To his credit Chris agreed with me and comforted me along with my mom even though I might well have ruined his chance of getting laid that night. Throughout the whole evening it was his compassion and concern for my well being that I remember better than anything else. I hope wherever he is someone is worried about his wellbeing and checks in on him from time to time.
