Story by Jon Stalnaker, aka The Studebaker Dude
I must confess, or maybe you noticed it right away, these stories about my cousin Alan were not just about him. As we get older, the worst things in our lives are funerals. As the immediate family of my youth has dwindled down from a mother, father and five children to just one sister and me, and the extended family photo on my father’s side has dwindled down from Grammy and Papa, 11 grandchildren and one great-grandson to less than five survivors, it kinda makes you think. When I was running around in diapers, we were all very close.
That memory faded when I grew up and began my own life. We all started our own families and the Sunday visits where we all gathered at Grammy and Papa’s house disappeared. The world changed at the same time until we got to the point that the only times we got together were at one of our funerals. Alan’s other sister, Kathy, made that observation at my sister Viki’s funeral. She said we need to get together more often and not just at funerals. We all agreed that was a great idea and we should do that. The next time we got together was at Kathy’s funeral.
It was at Kathy’s funeral that I had a chance to talk with Alan’s son Alex. Alex was born in 1974, and I never got a chance to spend much time with him. Family get-togethers were already a thing of the past as we all seemed to be focused on our own immediate families and our own careers. Alex grew up and the shock I expressed when he introduced me to his wife, children and grandchildren was a big wake-up for me. The son of one of my favorite cousins was a stranger to me.
As much as I complain about Facebook, I appreciate most the ability to communicate with loved ones that you rarely see. I learned a lot about him and through conversation on the internet, I began to open up about what I knew about his dad. I have so many stories to share and I thought it would be fun to write some of them down to share. He does read my stories. We have talked about getting together to share my memories with his family and I am hoping we can make that happen now that we are both California escapees. They live in Texas just north of Dallas and we have a couple of extra rooms. We both would like to see it happen but just in case, I can at least share some stories in writing.
Alan was the president of the Board of Directors for our local Postal Credit Union. He talked me into joining him as a member of the credit committee and one of my favorite attaboys I have on my wall is a certificate of appreciation for five years of devoted service signed by him. The other thing about Alan that I wanted to share was the fact that he came to my swearing-in ceremony when I was installed as Postmaster of Dixon. That was a big deal for me and was likely one of the last times I got to spend with him.
Talking with Alex has been fun as I can hear and see that he is indeed Alan’s son and the ability to have so many friends was passed down from Papa to Alan’s mother (we called her Didi), and Alan’s two sisters. I can share with Alex more about his grandmother and Aunties. They were interesting people and I learned a lot from my cousin Irma, who was really a great historian of that branch of my family tree.
I used to think old people were fixated on people dying. It seemed like every day it was so-and-so died, and I didn’t realize how real it is when you get to be my age. It’s not just older people kicking the bucket but siblings and people who started working at your company at the same time as you. Or worse, someone younger than you. We talk about it because we see it way too often. It’s in our face big time. We like to reminisce because to us it’s like seeing them again. It’s like a hug or a firm handshake with people you loved or admired. Call someone when you think about them. Do it before it’s too late.
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