Memories of Uncle Don

Found out today that a favorite uncle, Uncle Don, is on hospice care. He’s in his 90s, so it’s somewhat expected. Still sad, though.

Just two years ago the family gathered in Hoyt Arboretum to celebrate his 90th birthday, and his wife, Helen’s, 80th. We were all encouraged to get up and tell stories about Uncle Don and Aunt Helen. This was the story I told that day.

I saw the movie Alien twice in the local theater with friends opening weekend. I was in high school. A fan of sci-fi and horror. I loved it. A couple of weeks later Uncle Don and Aunt Helen were visiting my parents while I was around, and mentioned that they wanted to go see Alien, since it was playing nearby. Would I like to go with them? Of course I would!

We sat in the balcony (remember when theaters had balconies? I loved the balcony) up near the front edge. They both knew that it was a horror flick so they were delightedly anticipating the suspense. I tried, oh, how I tried, to keep my reactions to myself. But… I couldn’t. I knew what was coming and my teenage brain and body were winding me up as the movie progressed.

And I basically spoiled the Big Scene (you know the one) because, even having seen it before, I was scrunching down in my seat, hiding in anticipation behind my giant soda and popcorn, as the crew of the Nostromo were enjoying a nice meal.

My aunt Helen kept asking me, “what’s wrong? Are you OK?” And when It Happened (YouTube link, spoilers for the movie, fair warning) she was looking at me, not the screen. She was startled by the sound (terrific sound design on that movie, among other things) and nearly lept out of her skin.

After I was done recounting the story at the birthday gathering, both Don and Helen thanked me for sharing. They remembered the incident vividly. I again apologized. They accepted it and even forgave me.

Here’s to you both, Don and Helen. Love you both, lots.