#myproject41 9/365: My Uncle Joey

I have an uncle who is younger than me. 

Growing up I was the oldest of the grand kids on my mom's side, followed by my brother Shayne, cousin Donnie, brother Aaron, and finally, little Uncle Joey. Until I was 17, I was the only girl.

Left to right: Shayne, Aaron, Uncle Gary, Donnie, Uncle Joey.

The family joke is that my Mom was pregnant, then my aunt got pregnant, and my Grammy (who also goes by Grams and Gibby) felt left out, so she she got pregnant too. 

We've never called him Uncle Joey seriously, though. Only when we're being hilarious.

Though Joey was the youngest of 6 kids (my mom is the oldest), the age gap between he and his next sibling is so big that Joey was raised as an only child. I spent a lot of time with my Grammy as a child, which meant that once Joey came along, I spent a lot of time with him, too. 

I lived with my Grammy for large chunks of time, from what I remember. Summers, I think, and lots of other visits. I took piano lessons and Joey would want to suddenly touch the piano because I was. We'd watch Annie for hours and hours and hours and knew every single word by heart. We'd play Rainbow Brite and My Little Ponies (the cool original ones, not the creepy new ones!) and with our Cabbage Patch Kids (to this day I still have both of them somewhere). 

Joey and my cousin Donnie were as close as brothers to me. As we grew up, we grew apart. It was hard for me, getting older, when the boys all started getting mixed up in activities I didn't want to be a part of. I became the annoying goody-two-shoes, the only girl so naturally the family favorite and that attitude that was passed down from the adults in our family became a real source of contention between all the boys and I. It was unfair, to be sure, the amount of positive attention I was paid compared to my brothers, and I felt that pain from them and from my mom as well. I wore the label of "good girl" like a heavy blanket.

So, like the rest of the boys, Joey had experienced a rebellious youth and quite frankly, grew into the youngest grouchy old man I've ever known. So I think our whole family was pretty excited when, after life and heartbreak, Joey finally found a woman who could handle and challenge him.

In June 2011, Joey and Lindsey got married in Eastern Washington. I was a groomsman (but in a pretty dress!), my kids were both in the wedding, and this was going to be the first time Greg was going to meet all of my family.

But it was barely a month since his niece and nephew had been killed, and he wasn't exactly in a partying mood. 

He's a good man, though, so he went anyway. He pasted a smile on his face, met my large, loud, crazy, family, and endured the nonstop looks of concern and sadness that he was inevitably greeted with. And then he slept for much of the day in the car.

At least that's how I remember it. And I've seen zero pics of him at that wedding, so I know I must be right.

We don't actually get to see Joey and Lindsey that often since they live on the other side of the mountains and we're all just busy.

But just 9 months after our Quinleigh was born, they had Camden, who is just a doll. We all spent the past Thanksgiving together and Quinleigh and Camden were inseparable.

Watching Joey grow and mature into a husband and then a Daddy has been really special to me. In areas he was selfish before, now he's giving and generous. He's beyond patient with Camden, even as a work-from-home-Dad, and it was kind of fun to commiserate about the joys and hardships of being an at-home-parent. He's a fantastic cook, too, and it's a joy to watch him work. He made a ridiculously delicious gravy this past year, and the brined turkey was insane.

Joey is still a grouchy old man, but I adore him.

Xoxo.