Uncle Rick

The earliest memory I have of my childhood was when I woke out of bed on my third birthday. I walked down stairs with a big grin on my face where my Aunt Cheryl and Uncle Rick greeted me and wished me a Happy Birthday. I remember my uncle saying, “You are three now”!
I have many great memories of my uncle that I will never forget.
Growing up we lived about 45 minutes from Vancouver, WA where my aunt and uncle's home sat in a quiet cul-de-sac. My sisters and I spent weekends and holidays at their house, my cousin Charlie usually came back home with us. Looking back it was a nice little trade off and I am sure both set of parents enjoyed the break.
I loved going to their home. They had a pool, a club house, and Becky and I got to take over Charlie’s water-bed.
When I was small I remember my uncle being a loud and tall man. He would imitate Donald Duck to get me to smile, it worked every time. He wore turquoise rings and had long hair. He pumped iron (not knowing what that was as a little girl), and had a punching bag in his garage. Every time my parents loaded us kids into the car/truck my uncle would run out with paper towels and Windex and make sure our windows were clean before we got on the road.
As I got older he would tease me and I eventually learned to tease him back. It was a game we would play. We were buds.
He called me Rodent, and the rest of the family followed. The name stuck.
We were the artist in the family. We both drew cartoons. I would love to watch him draw. I drew a picture of him pushing a lawn mower in his cut off jean shorts and brown leather belt. I gave it to him, and he loved it.
He also had the nicest handwriting I have ever seen from a man. Beautiful cursive letters.
My uncle loved the earth, he had a massive garden that grew fresh vegetables year round. We would love the home made spaghetti sauce Aunt Cheryl would make or the zucchini muffins that surprisingly didn’t taste like zucchini. I remember my uncle loving his ranch dressing on his salads. If it was running out, he would add a little milk to make it last.
We spent several weekend working for their landscaping business. I will never forget the feeling of bark dust in my shoes.
When the quiet cul-de-sac was no longer quiet they moved to a bigger house across town. The spaghetti dinners continued along with the memories.
When I ran track my junior year my aunt and uncle drove to Naselle to watch me win The District Championship. It meant a lot that they were there for me. I can still see my uncle coming to me excited for my win. It was the first time he had seen me run.
My childhood would not have been the same without the influences of my uncle. It takes a village and he was a big part of it. I will miss him dearly. I love you Uncle Rick.