Aunt Polly and uncle Paul.

My extended family is an intelligent and funny one. Out of all of them, no one has a better sense of humor than my uncle Paul.

He was 17 when my father (an “oops” baby) was born. Uncle Paul went off to Germany to fight in WWII soon after my dad arrived upon the scene. So he didn’t have a lot of experience with babies.

Once while home on leave, he changed my dad’s diaper but my dad was still crying. Come to find out, he had safetypinned the diaper TO THE BABY. My dad must have forgiven him, because that story was told every year at the family reunion, my dad laughing along with everyone else.

During his time serving in Germany, he must have seen a lot of things because he was right there in it, fighting on the front lines. During a visit to his home when I was a teenager, he showed me a german solider’s helmet he brought back from the war, along with other Nazi artifacts he obtained from dead german soliders. Always looking for the joke even at that young age, he told of being on patrol and coming across a dead german. He put the soliders coat and helmet on, then went back to his camp and jumped out of the bushes: “Look at me! I’m a GEEERRRRMMAAANN!”

He said that wasn’t so smart, and probably the closest he came in the whole war to being shot.

Being around uncle Paul was being around laughter. Like my uncle Harve (his brother), uncle Paul was an expert storyteller and he loved history. There truly never was a dull moment with uncle Paul around.

When my aunt Polly (his wife) died back in the late ’90’s, uncle Paul was depressed and never did seem to come out of it. As his years alone passed, he developed heart problems. Then the most heartbreaking diagnosis of all: Alzheimers.

About three weeks ago, my cousins (with his agreement) finally came to the conclusion that they couldn’t let him live by himself any more. They arranged for a nice apartment for him in an assisted living facility. A week after moving in, one of my cousins arrived to visit him and couldn’t find him in his room. They found him unconscious, lying in the garden under a hot Louisiana sun.

After the stroke, his children kept constant vigil at his bedside. Struggling to swallow and stand, he had good days and bad. Then he had a pulmonary emblolism, then his kidneys started to fail.

This dear man passed away this morning.

Uncle Paul, you’ve been lonely and lost since your wife died several years ago, and I know you’re with her now. I can see your spirit going anywhere in the world it wants to go now, no longer held back by a body that is tired and worn out, and a mind encumbered by the fog of Alzheimers.

I don’t know for sure about God, heaven, or the afterlife, but I do believe that energy doesn’t die, and you my dear were all energy.

Thank you for being such a good dad to my four cousins, who are just amazing people. Thank you for your years of teaching college students geography. I sat in on one of your classes once, so I know first-hand that you were a brilliant and engaging teacher. Thank you for everything you’ve brought to my life. I love you and I’ll miss you very much.

Found at Dave Does the Blog, a fellow Coloradoian. Coloradoite? You know what I mean. He lives here.

Let’s rewrite the scientific process while we’re at it:

(Via Random Abstract)

And last but not least, Alternet gives a few examples of other “science facts” religious people have wanted us to believe, and how wrong they were. (Via George in Denver.)

Inspired by Lauren; in fact, I even left these in her comments. But I pulled something in my back tonight and I’m in so much pain that my snarkiness is seeping into my recipes.

I don’t cook much, but when I do, I have two favorite recipies. In fact, one isn’t even cooking.

Expand if you’re remotely interested in popularity and stardom.
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My dreams aren’t often the very realistic kind.

This morning I had a very real and very vivid dream that I lost control while passing a car on the highest interchange overpass of I-25 (top overpass is above two other overpasses and the highway itself). I lost control from the top one, and drove through a guardrail and into space. I thought to myself in the dream as I floated in midair a la Wylie Coyote and gazed down past three tiers of interchanges to the inevitable blacktop below:

“Well, I wasn’t expecting to die today. So this is how I’m going to die. I wish I had cleaned my house. Oh well, at least it will be quick and painless. I sure hope God forgives me and takes me to heaven.”

Then just before my car flipped upside down and hit the pavement, I woke up with my heart pounding.

I thought, “Oh my God! Did I just have a premonition? Is that how I’m going to die?!!!!”

Then I realized that last week I had a very realistic dream that I was dating Denis Leary, and he hasn’t shown up on my doorstep to declare his love for me yet. So until THAT dream comes true, I won’t be sitting around waiting for this mornings’ dream to come true.

Still, I really should clean my house…

I don’t understand the advertisements about “Summer’s Here!” like it’s a big whoop-dee-doo. Who likes it? It’s hot. Gas prices go up. Kids are out of school and on my lawn (geddoff my lawn, ya damn kids!).

I want fall, and sweatshirts. I want winter and snow. I want the end of my deodorant failure.

Oh April in Colorado. How I miss you!

So last night I dreamt I went to the movies. I never dream about going to the movies.

This morning, I sit down to my computer. Having just joined Blingo a few days ago, I thought I’d try searching for something, but really didn’t have anything to search for.

So I type in “will to live”.

And I win a free movie ticket!

Since I signed up as a friend of Busy Mom, I think she gets a movie ticket too. But she’s on vacation so it may be a while before I know that for sure.

So I am not only a psychic dreamer, but apparently my reason to live is to go by myself to see a movie sometime.

Sign up to Blingo as my friend please. Maybe you too will find a will to live. Plus, if you win an ipod, then I win an ipod.

So the dearhearted Dave at Buzzstuff added my personal favorite studmuffin and fellow Revovering Catholic® , Denis Leary to his Eye Candy Friday feature, just for lil’ old me!

Now, far be it from me to gush on and on about men. I’m 37 for chrissakes! Also, I abhor Hollywood hero worship (except for Trey Parker and Matt Stone, who — oh migawd I love them so much, if they started I cult I’d join it). But this week I have now blogged twice about celebrity hunks. So what? I’m old and lonely, get off me!

And for those of you who read about my first marriage to a firefighter will be glad to know that I’ve overcome my 12-year aversion to the Uniform of Horrid Memories because of Denis’ new show on FX, Rescue Me. Don’t let the shitty, melodramatic name fool you. It’s a must-see, chicklets!

And here is a song that illustrates just how much Denis and I are soulmates.

Oh Johnny… Our love was once bright and new…

But then, suddenly…

Oh Johnny… what have you done to our love?