patsyhatfieldlawson.com Uncle
Ted: My Personal Monster
I hated Uncle Ted most of my childhood. He was Aunt Emma’s husband. They came to visit us at least one weekend
every month or two. The visits were usually for Sunday dinner and I started
dreading the experience as soon as Mama said, “I think Emma and Ted will be
here this weekend for dinner.”
Uncle Ted was a large man, kinda like Bluto, Popeye’s
brutish friend who competed for Olive Oyl’s affections. When Uncle Ted walked
into a room it shrank in size and he appeared to fill the whole room. His voice
was loud, rough, and commanding. Even
his ‘hello’ sounded like an order to me. He always greeted me first and as much
as I craved attention, his comments were never welcomed because they were so
loud, unpredictable, and rough. A common greeting from him consisted of rubbing
my head with his knuckles, greeting me and leaving my short hair all tangled
and messy. I could not hide my disdain for him. I spent most of my time taking
paths around the spaces he occupied hoping to avoid contact with him. I didn’t
have to read books about dragons that breathed fire and ate people because
Uncle Ted was my fiery dragon.
I was a very finicky eater as a child. Uncle Ted made me eat when he came. Since he
owned a men’s clothing store he paid close attention to others’ clothing and
offered generous comments about others’ clothing choices and how they looked on
their body. One Easter Sunday dinner
Uncle Ted patted my stomach and told me that my new dress looked like a
maternity dress. I was 12 and so
self-conscious about my body that I cried over this comment. I never wore the
dress again. Mama and Aunt Emma knew my feelings about him and always said,
“Honey, that’s just the way he is; get used to it.” While I accepted this advice
on some level, my preferred way of coping was to stay out of his notice.
Aunt Emma was Mama’s youngest sister. She was petite
like me, pretty with twinkling brown eyes, and always finely dressed. People in
our community often accidentally called me by her name because I looked like
her. She was kind most of the time and only rarely made critical comments. I loved her very much and liked her visits.
She often brought me new clothes, books, and encouraged me to do well in
school. One persistent question that plagued me during adolescence, however,
was did he treat Aunt Emma the same as he treated me and why did she tolerate
it?
Today Aunt Emma is nearing 82. Uncle Ted died about ten years ago. She is
still quite attractive, mostly healthy, generous, and a fine dresser. We speak
and visit often. Our conversation eventually focused on my and Uncle Ted’s
relationship, or lack thereof. She still
insists that I was a favorite niece of his and that he loved me very much. She
told me that while he knew he scared me to death he always cared deeply about
me and how my life turned out. We laugh about his Bluto approach and my
reactions. While I now know that my reactions to him were somewhat based on the
gentle nature of my parents, I still feel he had a strange way of showing his
love. I also now accept that his style was a product of his family
relationships. His family were straight
shooters who told you their thoughts and feelings honestly and without
apology. I still don’t get the
connection between his business success and his communication style, but do
have great respect for his contributions to his community and family.
Recently I encountered a difficult situation which
called for straight honest reasoning and communication. I was amazed to realize that the words coming
out of my head and mouth were those of Uncle Ted’s, spoken exactly as he would
have said them! Inside my head I could
hear him confronting the situation as it happened and the exact words he would
have used. I was very surprised! My second surprise was the realization that I
had been given a gift from Uncle Ted.
While we don’t get to pick our relatives or their personalities, or the
discomfort they produce, we can learn valuable lessons from our interactions
with them. My parents were great models for me, but Uncle Ted provided me with
the problem solving skills I needed to handle really tough situations. These
were some skills my parents did not teach me. Maybe the reason we are given so
many relatives is to provide us with many different examples of problem
solving. Thank you, Uncle Ted, for being
who you were.
Patsy
Hatfield Lawson is a professional storyteller, speaker and entertainer who
performs at business conferences, civic functions, assisted living facilities,
and storytelling events.
www.patsyhatfieldlawson.com
patsyhlawson@gmail.com
