are measured by stories read,
snow cones slurped, and smiles.
Our grandchildren have Uncle Patchy.
Our kids have Uncle Dave.
And we had Uncle Bob. Uncle Bob didn't go to college, never married, and never had what would be considered a successful job. He spent a few years working for the Civilian Conservation Corps and he lived in California for a short time, but by the time I was young and knew him, he was living with my grandmother. He had odd jobs throughout his life, gas station attendant, liquor store clerk, and janitor at Northeastern Junior College. By the normal standards of our society, he wasn't very successful. To his nieces and nephews, however, he was the favorite Uncle and could do anything. Both my brother, Uncle Dave, and our son, Uncle Patchy, have successes in many aspects of their lives, none of which matters to their nieces and nephews. Their uncles make them smile and laugh.