2005 My Uncle Eric

My Uncle Eric…


…A personal eulogy by Tyler Guttenberger…
November 9, 2005


There were lots of times (before Mom found Dad) that I would stay with my aunt and uncle while Mom had to work or needed some personal time. My Aunt Denise and Uncle Eric were good to me.

I remember my uncle was so cool. He knew how to enjoy himself. When he was young he had a motorcycle. Sometimes when I'd visit he'd be working on his bike out in the back yard of their condo. I remember thinking on how his toolboxes were larger than his bike, so that stuff must be pretty serious fun!

I loved my uncle. I remember as a small kid how difficult it was for me when he finally told me that I was getting too old and too big for me to run and jump into his arms…or maybe he mentioned that 'he' was getting too old… Either way, that was an intense memory - not because of the facts of age though - that was inevitable. That small moment in time meant so much only because he was such an important part of me. He was my earliest 'hero' and that never went away with age.

It's no secret that Eric had a competitive spirit. I'm not sure where I got mine, but it sticks in my mind… Years ago Grandma and Grandpa all took the whole family into the mountains and put us in vacation homes for a week'. I think I was about fifteen, maybe… Anyway, it rained a lot that week so our family did what we've always enjoyed doing - we played card games. Eric made specific mention at one point that he was pretty good at playing two-handed Rook (a game the Larson's think of fondly) and that I couldn't expect to beat him yet. I, of course, being an bigheaded fifteen year old was not about to let a challenge like that go unanswered. When we did finally have the game I whipped him! ..Maybe I just barely beat him…I don't know really… But this was no small feat in my mind. It may sound funny to others, but for me - when I look back - it was a kind of a Larson right-of-passage. Kind of funny. I never asked him about it later. Instead, I prefer to think that he must have known how important it was to me at that age.

When I got to be about twenty I was pretty interested in motorcycles. He and I talked about it and he didn't take a hard line about whether it was 'right' or 'wrong'. Instead he asked me to think about it. He realized that it's a personal decision everyone makes "when to 'pass' on thrill-seeking".

He told me a story about when he'd once run from the cops on his motorcycle. He'd gotten away that time, but his story, of course, ended with "That was a long time ago…I was stupid and I can't imagine how I succeeded. Nobody can outrun a police radio - no matter how fast the bike is." I've shared that with my friends every time the topic of crazy motorcycle riding comes up.

He had lots of good memories on bikes. But he also said that when he got older he realized those "times" came at a price. He told me of friends of his that had been hurt, or died from accidents. He told me how much Grandma and Grandpa had worried. That wasn't news to me, but he didn't stop there… What really stuck with me was the last thing he said about 'em, "No matter how good you are, you'll never be completely prepared for the other guy that does the unexpected. You might avoid a few accidents along the way - "skills" - and you'll have lots of fun. But it's STILL only a matter of time…" I thought about that a lot and it ultimately put an end to my interest in riding. Thanks, Uncle Eric.

Uncle Eric and I still continued to talk every once and a while. These were important conversations to me. He managed to see past the brat I was as a kid...  He managed to know what to say at the right time when I was turning the corner into manhood... And after having started a family of my own he openly shared the things he'd already had to consider - no doubt, I'm a better father because of it. But in his last couple of years we spoke a bit more often. I'd say it was nothing short of "perfect" (a word that that always reminds me of my dad and cousin Ian).

I've not had much experience with death thus far in my life and Eric helped me gain some perspective about it. When he found that he'd been diagnosed with cancer and that he was only given a short time left to live we talked.

One day he asked me a question about what kind of legacy he should leave as his last act. He considered a campaign against smoking and another project of producing a "my wishes for you" video for his daughters. He asked me which one I'd chose if I were him. To invite me in where I could influence that kind of decision... was a true honor that could not have touched me deeper. I gave the best answer I had and was amazed at how he even managed to end that conversation with yet another honor - he said he'd thought my response was "wise beyond my years".

And on a final note… I hadn't really thought more on my own version of 'the meaning of life and death' before Eric's battle with cancer, outside of my simple mantra: "Live by the rules of family-first, enjoy life responsibly, help others often, and die being known for your integrity". Sounds hard enough! But Eric managed to do it. I look back on the times we had and I see what he did for me. He was there to offer the right advice at the right time, he believed in me, and ultimately he was a great role model. It's pretty sentimental and silly, but... I hope that one day I'll do for someone what my Uncle Eric did for me… I say it again, “Uncle Eric was my earliest hero”. And every boy growing up wants to know that there are still heroes out there.