Remembering the storyteller of my life

I would like to dedicate this post to a very special person. I would like to tell you a story about my Uncle Larry. But how do you tell a story about a storyteller and do him justice? How do you spin a tale or weave a yarn in the face of the master? To talk about a man who wore so many hats, meant so much to so many, is a challenge.

I think I should start by telling you about all those hats. Husband, father, son, brother, uncle, cousin, friend. So many roles, so many costume changes. Fisherman, gardener, artist, world traveler. The list is varied and long. He played each part and wore each hat like a pro. He was the guy….

My Uncle Larry was my mother’s brother – and she was crazy about him. She handed him a crown every time he walked through the door. To her he was royalty, a prince, and I grew up worshiping him.

My mom was ten years old when her brother was born. Canada was in the midst of the Great Depression, and mom was in the midst of a family of five girls. This baby brother rocked everyone’s world. A ten year age difference is a lot to start with – I’m pretty sure mom thought this baby was a real live doll in the beginning. Being the middle daughter I’m guessing she was fairly lost in the crowd and this new toy was a real gift. Mom and Uncle Larry had a special connection, more than siblings, they were friends.

Originally my relationship with my uncle was based upon my mother’s adoration of him. He was perfect in her eyes and thus perfect in mine. But as I grew up I started to form my own opinion.

We were only ever visitors, my uncle and I. I grew up several provinces away from where he lived. We would see him on the occasion of a holiday or business trip. He seemed to effortlessly live up to, and exceed, all our expectations every time we saw him. He was funnier than anyone had the right to be. A natural storyteller and entertainer, he could turn a mundane moment into a hilarious tale. He could stretch a truth from here to Tuesday and never blink. He was the master.

To my siblings and I our uncle was more magical than princely – he was a wizard. He cast his spells upon us as we sat around the dining room table and hung on his every word. He could make time stand still. He painted pictures with words and transported us around the world. We were nuts about him and loved his visits.

Over years and stories he secured a special place in everyone’s hearts – he became royalty to my brother and sisters and I and we introduced him to another generation of worshipers. The magic of this wizard seems to have increased over the passage of time, these children were lost to it from the moment they met him.

The thing about this sort of magic is that once it is cast, it can never disappear. The stories he told are remembered, and in the remembering they have become family lore. This is the immortality of a storyteller.

The thing about a story is that it is told in past tense, it has already happened in order to be a story. The thing about a good storyteller is they tell the story so well that we can live it again. So I say to those of us aching with the loss of this amazing man, tell a story about him and we can live that moment again. Uncle Larry was more than a great storyteller, he is a great story.

So much love, Elva xo