Uncle Dennis

Cassidy Rich

November 5, 2007

Character Essay

Uncle Dennis

Picture perfectly gelled hair, a few tattoos scattered on muscular arms, and a huge voice. No, I am not describing Uncle Jessie from "Full House", but my Uncle Dennis. Now, picture no hair, a bright smile, and a roaring laugh. This is my Uncle Dennis with cancer. When everyone lost hope, he carried on with enough to make up for them. His faith remained with him until the end, which came far too early. However, whenever I think of my Uncle Dennis, I think about candy, funny dance moves, and effect on those around him.

When I was young, I lived at my Nana’s house. All of my family is generally young, so it was a house of babies, teenagers, young adults, and grown adults. My Uncle Dennis visited regularly. Upon these visits, he never failed to bring me candy. I would hear his usual "I’M HERE!" and run for the door. I jumped up and down with anticipation and barely survived through the longest seconds imaginable for him to cross through the breeze-way and into the kitchen. All around me, everyone would stop and wait. This was because if Dennis was here, the fun was about to begin. As he strutted into the kitchen, and I went flying into the air, everyone would let out a hello and get back to what they were doing. I would be placed back on the ground, and be spoken to, yet with the idea of sugar, I always ignored the words. With my knowledge now, I would have cherished those words and hung onto them with every bit of strength in me, because they were the only moments I got to be completely alone with my Uncle Dennis. But, because of my ignorance, I brushed off the sentences with "uh huh"s and "ok"s and finally got my candy. That is why, to this day, the sight of bright candy wrappers sends an image of him through my mind.

Just to set the record straight, my Uncle had the weirdest, yet best dance moves ever. At weddings, nobody even tried to outshine him, that’s how amazing he was. It was not that he was good at dancing, it was just that he had the best time doing it. He didn’t care what anybody thought, which didn’t matter because everyone had a good time just watching him. The day after he was diagnosed with cancer, my Auntie Jeannie had her wedding. Even though the horrible news must have devastated him, he was still on that floor dancing, with a smile on his face to boot. The first dance move he taught me was the one when you cross your arms over your knees and move your legs back and forth, uncrossing and crossing your arms while doing it. At the time, my cousins and I were baffled at how cool his knowledge of dancing was. In his apartment we continuously crossed and uncrossed our arms, laughing the whole time.

"What would Dennis do?" My Uncle’s best friend, David, let out the secret of his success. Whenever in a bind, he would ask himself "what would Dennis do?" How could one man have such an impact on another’s life? How could someone be so great that another person asks what they would do in their situation? I never knew how amazing my Uncle Dennis was until after he passed away. So many people have told stories of how he had helped them become better, and how he was always there for them. Almost every Sunday, he was at my grandparent’s house, just to eat breakfast with them. He always had an answer to questions. Daughters’ dance recitals, soccer games, or cheering competitions? He was in the crowd. Whenever in doubt, ask Dennis. That was a subconscious phrase that everyone who knew him lived by.

Whether it be candy, a funny dance move, or a simple flashback, my Uncle Dennis will be with me. Maybe I’ll see a tattoo of an odd design sprawled on someone’s arm and think of him. Or maybe I’ll here the words "I’m here," and assume they were spoken out of his mouth. At this point, I live for the moments when he pops into my mind.