Keilee Simone

The year was 1998. At 1:11AM on Tax Day, in the dark of night, the world got a little bit brighter.

My niece was born at Emanuel Hospital. I was 13 years old and trying my best to stay awake on an early Wednesday morning in a maternity room all by myself. My mom went with my sister and brother-in-law to the OR to witness the birth of her first grandchild. Since I was 13, a boy, and someone who didn't want to see the inside of my sister (truth is I wasn't allowed in the OR) I was left in the room to my own devices.

I watched the late local news and the Tonight Show with Jay Leno to pass the time. I tried to be a good brother and uncle by cleaning up the room before they came back. I remember it taking forever and wondering just how tired I'd be for school the next day.

They finally came back with her at about a quarter to two. She was beautiful! I was the second family member (outside of her parents) to see her alive. We stayed for something like 15 minutes. What a ripoff. I wanted to see more of her!

Keilee turns 18 today. It's hard to believe it's been that long.

I watched her as a toddler while my sister would work. We watched PB&J Otter and Blue's Clues ad nauseum. She thought I was Steve. For the record, I don't look like the guy at all. Well, maybe when I was 14 I did, but regardless, I've been Uncle Steve ever since.

Left: c. 2000  Right: c. 2014

We bonded over sports as she grew up. We would shoot jumpers in the driveway. She probably thinks she could beat me one on one but she's wrong. I'll often randomly tweet at her that I miss her and she always replies.

She is a tomboy and when she puts on a dress I get uneasy. Part of me is protective of her and kind of thinks of her as his little sister. I still see the messy face little girl who carries Mr. Bear around by the ribbon and wants to give me a hug.

I feel old today. I told someone that I used to change her diapers and instantly felt gray hair try to sprout. Good thing I'm bald, I guess. It makes me think about my own kids and how fast they are growing up. It goes by really fast and before you know it, they're grownups.

She graduates in two months and I am excited about her future. I want her to be successful and do something she is passionate about. I want her to grow old, have a family of her own and take charge of our family someday. She needs to be strong like her mother. I want her to keep all her cousins together and create a loving extended family who makes fun of their parents together. Most of all, I want her to enjoy life.

She is a sweet, kind, funny, awesome gir....woman and I love her to death.

Welcome to adulthood, kid. Happy Birthday.

Love,
Uncle Steve



Toasting the Harrahs

Part of me can be terrified of speaking in front of people. It takes over at the most inopportune times. I am pretty outgoing for the most part. For whatever reason that part of me resurfaced on one of the most important days for two of my closest friends, Christopher and Courtney. So here it goes, although not from my voice, from my heart nonetheless.

I am honored to be here on one of the most important days in Chris and Courtney's lives. I have known Chris for almost 10 years and in that time, I can't remember a time he hasn't dropped everything to help me when I've needed it. He will lend you the shirt off his back if you needed it. From his time with the fire department to his training as an EMT to the times he drived around in the snow looking for people to pull out of trouble just so he could help someone in need. He has coached numerous kids with wrestling and devotes what little time he has to helping his family and friends. He has fixed my car, helped me move many times, cooked me dinner, raced a UHaul just to name a few things.

I met him long ago when he was a high school senior in need of some math tutoring. (I don't know if he could add now to save his life, but that's beside the point.) I remember him then just the same as he is now...kind, bright, energetic, helpful.

I don't have any biological brothers. Even though Chris has three of his own, he has included me as a brother without a second thought or hesitation and I truly love him for that.

I've known Courtney for about four years now and I don't think I've met a sweeter, more genuine person in my life. Sometimes I wonder how such a great person ever became friends with me. Her laugh and smile are just as contagious as her personality. I've tried to coach and train her professionally and I am absolutely amazed to see just how far she has come in such a short time.

I am glad to have a friend that I can vent to, confide in, and best of all rely on to be there when I need.

I am so glad they found each other and I am forever grateful they thought to include me on this important day. May their future together be as bright as ever!

I love you both.

Goodbye.

Some people don't like to say it.  Others don't have a problem with it.  Some think it means forever, and some don't give it a second thought.  How do you say goodbye?  There's no way to really say it without feeling like you left something on the table.  Especially in the face of tragedy, you can't really close the chapter on that part of your life.  You'll always have memories.  But what else is there? 

When I think about her now, I feel regret.  Regret for not spending more time with her, even if she was so good at pushing people away.  Regret for not forcing her to spend time with us.  Calling her.  Texting her.  Facebook.  Smoke signals.  Telegrams.

My father-in-law said, "the shoulda-coulda-wouldas are a bitch."

My mind keeps tormenting itself.  At work.  At home.  In the car.  Why didn't you try harder?  I know there's nothing I can do now.  I know it may not have helped.  Even if, everything else constant, we spent more time together, I'd probably hurt just the same.  But at least I'd have had a few more memories.  A few more words, a few more moments.  I can't clear my mind.  I only want to remember the good times, but the regrets keep creeping back in. 

It's too late now.  She's gone.

I met Krystal in the same place I meet 95% of the people I meet.  At work.  But she didn't work with me.  She never worked for the company.  She was a customer looking for paint to help one of her friends paint a room.  Me being a single guy thought she was cute...obviously.  She wasn't having it but I could tell just from the ten minutes it took to mix a gallon of paint that she was a nice person.  She cared about people.  She laughed at my stupid jokes and smiled from ear to ear.  That was just her way.  No matter what was going on in her life (and believe me, at times, she went through hell) she was uplifting.  She mentioned her cousin was a co-worker of mine.  Little would I know that I'd marry that cousin of hers a few years later.

We agreed to let Krystal move in sometime in 2005.  A townhouse apartment in SE Portland is where we called home.  We had our differences from time to time.  We squabbled over things that roommates squabble over.  We had parties, gatherings, soirees.  Furniture was thrashed, carpets stained, guys in penis costumes appeared one Halloween. Shuttling the underage into upstairs closets when the police arrived.  We'd break into impromptu dance-offs.  We put aluminum foil in our mouths when Grillz was all the rage.  It was one of the best times of my life. 

Later we'd have arguments about something I can't even recall.  We didn't talk for a quite some time.  This is another time I fucking hate thinking about.  What good came out of being mad at her?  No good.  No fucking good at all.

We finally buried the hatchet after about a year I'd guess.  More good times were had.

We could barely talk to each other like normal people most of the time.  We quoted any movie we could but we'd also go beyond quoting and talked in character voices from our favorite comedy movies and shows. Here's a typical exchange between Krys and I:

Me:  (in Will Ferrell's Robert Goulet voice)  Hey...what's the haps?  Da da dee da da daaaahhh!

Krys:  (in Kip from Napoleon Dynamite's voice)  It's actually going pretty good?  How bout yourself?

Me:  (Goulet) Can't complain. What are you havin for dinner?  You're hungry aren't ya?

Krys:  (Kip) Yeah, but I went to the store and they ran out of veggie burgers.  I'm just kinda T-O'd right now.

Me:  (Goulet) I can't believe the store has the guff to deny you a vegetable burger.  Don't let those hooligans rule the biz.  (holding stare until she breaks character and laughs)

Krys:  (laughs) (in regular voice)  I love you Mike-a-like!

Me:  (continues Robert Goulet)  Yeahhhhhhhhhh!  She-bop she-bang Thong Song!

Krys: (in her best Goulet voice)  You get the idea.

The last great time I can remember spending with her was at her friend Jake's house for New Year's 2010.  It was the first time Nikki and I could escape the house being newly-minted parents.  We dropped the kid off and headed out for a night of drunken conversation, drunken dancing, drunken drawing on passed-out faces.

I was at work one day a few weeks back.  Thinking about stuff.  Random thoughts were flickering.  I thought to myself, "we've been lucky to not have people around us die for quite some time."  Apparently someone was listening.

There's no doubt that I will miss her.  But she has given me something.  She made me realize that there are no guarantees in life.  Who knows if I'll be here tomorrow?  I need to be with the people who are important to me no matter what.  Even if we sit in uncomfortable silence.  Just spending time together will be enough for me.

In the end, we weren't cousins.  We weren't brother and sister.  But we were family.  Even though we drifted apart in recent years we were still close.  I can't believe that I have to go on living without hearing her Kip impression.  Or hearing random country music play when she's around.  Without seeing that smile or hearing that laugh again.

Krystal and I, 9/6/2008

 Goodbye Pook.  I'll miss you like technology.

4 More Years!

No, this blog entry will not mention political agendas, olympic dreams or education.

Today marks the end of the fourth year that I have been married to the sweetest, most generous, loving wife.  We are the only ones in the group of our friends that can say we were married during the Bush Administration.  What have we seen in the last four years?  Some ups and downs to be sure.  Some things remain the same.  Our house and the struggle to save it.  My job, although I have been promoted a few times since then.  Our car is still around.  We still have a cat even though he often annoys us to no end.

Many things have changed in four years.  360 days into our marriage we welcomed the love of our lives into the world.  Hayden Thomas was born on September 1st, 2009.  He has been the cement to our marriage.  Whenever we get mad at each other, he is there to look at both of us with a kind of "I'm too cute for you to argue with each other" look.  He seems to make everything better when the grown adults can't seem to figure it out.  He is the reason I will never forget how many years I've been married.  I'll just add 1 to his age and tell my wife, Happy "X+1" Anniversary!  I think I can manage that math in my head.

My wife is the ultimate giver.  It's what makes her go, it gives her joy.  It could also be one of her weaknesses.  She totally lives by the Golden Rule.  Maybe it's a modified Golden Rule. She expects back just a fraction of what she gives out, but she still expects something.  Instead, she often gets the short end of the stick when it comes to gratitude.  There are few people in the world who realize how generous and giving she is.

She is behind nearly every celebration in our group of friends.  She loves to plan things for people.  Birthdays, showers, marriages, babies, bar mitzvahs...she does it all.  She never hesitates to help out a friend in need.  And when our friends help us out, she wouldn't feel right until she made them dinner or bought them a drink.  I love her for all that she does for my son and I, even though she'd downplay it and tell you it wasn't a big deal.  I don't think she realizes how important she is to my son, myself, our friends and family. 

I love her very much, she is someone I cannot live without.  Four years ago today, I made a promise to her and to the world.  We will walk through this life together forever.  I will be by her side through thick and thin.

Peanut Better

Lately, I've been quizzing the people around me about what apparently is a cuisine phenomenon.  Many people love hamburgers and cheeseburgers and adorn them with basic condiments like ketchup, mustard and mayonnaise.

As far back as I can remember, anytime our family slapped Bessie on the grill in 4 inch patty form, my mom has always asked for the peanut butter.  This resulted in my sister and I groaning in disgust.  PB is reserved for jelly there mom.  It took a few years for my mom to finally talk me into taking one bite of her peanut butter burger and I was instantly hooked.

Since that point, my mom and I have been outcasts at the family get togethers.  "Where's the peanut butter?"  Now I hear everyone else groan.

A few days ago, I was heading home from work and the wife and I were trying to decide what to eat for dinner.  My wife mentioned a few places, one of which we'd never dined at.  Killer Burger.  "They have a peanut butter burger there," she said.  The Nissan was turning around.  I was heading to this mysterious place in Portland where every burger comes with bacon.

I arrived and felt like I walked into an episode of Portlandia.  The non-vegan hipsters were all over the place.  I placed my order and waited...and waited...and waited.  It seemed like a long wait.  My order finally came out and I had to wait for the whole drive home to try it out.  I got home and eagerly took the first bite of the Peanut Butter Pickle Bacon Burger.  Holy hell.  Best...burger...ever.  My wife took a bite and she was hooked.  I almost called my mom.  They used CHUNKY peanut butter.  Why didn't we ever think of that?  Bacon?  Duh.  It was like I've been doing this thing most of my life and I was doing it all wrong!  Pickles!

I've been trying for nearly 20 years to turn people on to the peanut butter craze.  I've been telling my co-workers.  We discuss local cuisine in and around Portland.  I have a list going of places I need to try.  Telling stories of eating foot-sized filled donuts and vomiting myself awake.  Recently, my father-in-law challenged me to a 72oz. steak.  If I can't finish it, he'll foot the bill.  It sounds intriguing but I don't know if I can eat 4.5 lbs of meat.  I know I can, but my extreme hunger comes at the most inopportune times.

The moral of the story?  Try a peanut butter burger.  Now.