This is not an obituary (Part One)

So were about 3 months into this new blog and I guess it's going well. It's not yet become a source for only dumping vile stream of consciousness onto the world. But today's post does bring a few notes of tradgedy and sadness.

My Great-Uncle Homer Williford died this past weekend due to complications from a major stroke he had over a year ago. Homer was one of my paternal grandfather's older brothers and although I had not seen him much over the last several years of his life I was lucky to have spent quite a bit of time with him when I was growing up as my father was closer to his Uncle than his own father.

Homer was a Naval minesweeper during WWII stationed in the South Pacic, mostly in Japan. Although he never spoke a great deal about the war itself, he did always have great things to say about the people and places he saw. I'll never forget the glorious black and white photograph he had taken of Mount Fuji. It seemed Homer reserved his wildest tales for those of a youth growing up in a rowdy and tough West Texas that most of only know from Larry McMurtry novels.

I remember when he taught me and my brother how to use a butterfly knife. This was after regailing us with a story about some younger guys trying to pick a fight with him in bar and pulling the knife on him. Needless to say it did them no good, even though they were younger, out-numbered him and had a weapon he still walked away unscathed and with a shiny souveneir to boot. The knife was then passed onto us, via our Dad, who of course held onto it until we were old enough to be responsible with such a thing.

Homer also had a vivacious and wonderful wife, Aunt Joyce. Originally from Northern California, she was a sweet and adventourous lady who liked to drive around town on an old dirtbike and grew peaches in the same backyard where she taught me to play croquet, a game at the time I had no idea was mostly foreign to this country outside of New England upper-crusters, but it all just seemed normal for her. She loved movie musicals and I remember watching so many for the first time with her when we'd visit. Camelot, Funny Girl, Seven Brothers for Seven Brides, Oklahoma!, Kismet. Joyce and Homer seperated several years ago and she returned to her hometown to be closer to her family there.

Homer and Joyce's son, Steven Williford, is a musician who I grew up watching play with my dad in several Blues bands. Steven now resides in Oregon with his wife Faith and thier teenage son Stevie. He also has an older son, Rusty from his first marriage. Rusty was sort of the cooler older brother I never had myself, he was a dirtbike racer, track and tennis star and eventually went into the Navy where he met his wife and has settled down in the Pacific Northwest as well.

Homer leaves behind a lot of love and a lot of loved ones. I haven't seen much of any of them in quite a long time and it's a shame I'm not going to be able to make it to Homer's services. They are out in Big Spring, Texas. Several hundred and several hours away. It used to be much easier for people, when they lost someone, to drop everything and be there for thier family. Not so much now. Life is too complicated in that way now. Maybe I'm blaming the world when it's really just my life that is too complicated because I let it be.

I don't know. I don't really like to go to funerals or weddings. But that's not the point. The last time I saw Homer was at my brother's funeral just over five years ago. I was barely able to even speak to him because it was his duty to chaperone my grandfather and make sure he was not making a fool of himself. He did as good a job as anyone could expect, I don't remember if they stayed around that long. Homer was in his mid-80s. I know he saw his share of tragedy over the years, including losing a sister-in-law and a teenage neice in a car wreck only 3 weeks after I was born as I was just reminded of when going through some family mementos with my father which included the newspaper clippings. I'm sure at that time of sadness it was nice to have new life in the family even if it was me.