Uncle Brad

    This summer, I went to the beach.  I hadn't been to the Atlantic Ocean in quite some time and was really ready for some mind-numbing, peaceful hypnotization from watching and hearing the waves.  
    Growing up, I used to go to the beach every year with my family - the Byrnes.  But since I've been busy (and, quite frankly, didn't really make it much of a priority), I hadn't been out there in five or six years - so long I can't actually remember how long it's been.  So this year on vacation, Jonathan and I went to the beach.  We drove from Mountainhome, Pennsylvania (about 20 miles from Stroudsburg, PA in the Pocono Mountains) to Surf City, Topsail Island, North Carolina.  We thought it was going to be about an eight hour drive.  Twelve hours later at about 3:15am, we made it to the beach house and it was dead silent beside the rolling waves just outside the back door.
    Of course, Uncle Brad (one of the craziest, most brilliant people I've ever met) was sprawled out on the couch smelling like alcohol.  And naturally, being the bratty niece I've always been, I woke him up!  At first, he was pretty confused.  I even asked, "Uncle Brad, do you know who I am?"
    He groggily responded, "Yeah, of course," and leaned up to give me a quick hug.  "It's good ta see ya!"  Jonathan and I wandered around the house for a few minutes to see the best possible place to put our stuff and decided that just the floor somewhere was good and we'd crash on whatever living room furniture we could find.
    Before we headed back downstairs to the car, Uncle Brad stood up and said (a tad less groggily), "Kristen!  It's you!  When did you get here."  Jonathan and I couldn't help but laugh.  I gave him another hug and explained what happened and introduced him to Jonathan.
    "Alright, Uncle Brad, go back to sleep.  We're gonna go get our stuff from the car and get some sleep,"  I said.
    He rubbed his eyes, "Do you guys need any help with anything?"
    "Oh, no, no, no.  Just go back to sleep.  We got it," I said.  Then I realized that maybe I should have let him help me - but only because it would be easier.
    As we were coming back up the stairs, Uncle Brad leaned his head over the balcony and said, "You crazy.  Why wouldn't you tell me you needed help."  He walked towards us and took two of three bags out of our hands and took them into the house.  At this point, I knew he wasn't going to go to sleep anytime soon. 
    I grabbed a cigarette and asked if he wanted to go smoke on the back porch with me.  I knew he would.  He said, "Sure" and reached for a cigarette.  Fortunately, Jonathan is pretty good at doing stuff on his own and without help.  So he wandered around to find a places for his stuff so that it wouldn't be in the way in the morning while Uncle Brad and I listened to the waves and smoked.
    "So, how ya been, Kristen?"
    "Ah, you know, been on vacation for two weeks so far, so I'm doing great.  But, no, really, overall, I'm doing well and having fun and working.  How have you been?  What are you up to?"
    The typical catching-up-with-family small talk ensued for a while and we just chatted about this and that and then about techy stuff including web design.  We went back into the house and talked about some of the things he's working on with his computer and on his boat.  Suddenly, it was about 5:30 in the morning, so I crashed out on the couch with Jonathan.

    The next few nights, I stayed up talking to Uncle Brad until about 3:00 in the morning.  We just talked about random things and about life.  Religion and politics were a huge topic of our conversations.  Which is super weird because I've always avoided both of those conversations with my "Byrne Family."  I'm glad I had the conversations though.  If you read my blog about "Christians" you'll know where I stand on that whole topic.  However, I got to expand upon that verbally and had good conversations with him.  I dropped tons of f-bombs, explained why I can't stand how even some of my family members act as "christians," and just talked.  It was good.  We were great.  We were open with each other and, as far as I'm concerned, got much closer to each other.
    I think the best part is that this was the first time I saw Uncle Brad and was really me.  I'd always been inhibited by my parents and by concern for what they looked like.  But I was able to put all that aside this summer.  I was able to be me and share who I really am.  It kind of felt redemptive.  Like I got to backtrack and repaint a picture of myself.  Uncle Brad told me several times (bare in mind that we were often drunk for these conversations) that he's really proud of me and impressed with the fact that I'm my own person and that I have my own thought processes and structures of beliefs.  He was definitely shocked to see that I'm no longer just my parents' kid.  I'm an adult who was raised by some people who have a completely different lifestyle and different expectations than me.
    My Uncle Brad is awesome.