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This was written by my cousin, Matthew Crowell and I feel that the people who knew and loved my father will truly appreciate reading this.
-Taken from a writing titled, My Thoughts on Heroism.
Every culture in history that has a word for “hero”, defines it with courage in the face of the unknown, and with a strong sense of family honor. My uncle and my father possess both of these traits. As this is my family, which I have known all my life, I often take it for granted. When I stop to reflect though, I am both honored and humbled to be part of such a noble family. I can only hope that some of the magic that makes them heroic rubs off on me, so that one day I might be someone’s hero. If that is now my fate, to be a hero, I know it is something I was given by these two. Again, that is what heroes do. They change your fate for the better.
My other hero has also influenced my life in a very profound manner. He has never saved me from impending doom, but, the lessons he has taught me and the behaviors he has inspired me to pursue have changed the course of my life. He, like anyone worth writing about, is a good person on many levels, and the many facets and dimensions of his personality all add shine and interest to his character. His humor, love, and fatherly instincts draw those who know him close, and those who are lucky enough to be part of his family closer still. I cannot speak for others, but, his wit, the way he intently watches the Discovery Channel, and his hunger for learning draws me in and makes me want to listen, watch, and learn. His pride in the accomplishments of his son and daughter and his gratitude and love for his caring wife inspire me, as I hope that one day I will have such a family to care for me and the humility to truly appreciate that love, as he does. His determination against the worst odds, his strength even in moments of weakness, his steadfast stance and fist shaking in the face of Night, seem to cause all that visit him to swell with hope, and love, and pride for even knowing such a man. I know this man, and I am proud to say it. He is my father’s brother, my Uncle Frank.
A while back my uncle was diagnosed with esophageal cancer. It has been a long and arduous struggle, through which my family has come together for support and strength. We have all donned our armor and our helms, and stood together, determined not to let this thieving monster steal one of our family’s heroes. I wonder, though, if anyone else’s helm covers eyes swelling with tears, or a mouth full of gritted teeth, determined not to let the Fates take their bounty. I know my uncle is a hero to more than just me. I know that his effect on my life, as awesome as it seems to me, is nothing compared to the influence and heroism his own family has received. So I know that I feel only a fraction of the turmoil that they endure. In this definition of heroism I can only offer a morsel of what they already know. As I said before, heroism is not defined by the tragedies that befall us, nor by our endurance or perseverance. Heroism, to me, is defined alone by the changes you affect in the lives of others. Therefore this chimera named cancer cannot touch the man we all love so much. Even now my uncle inspires me to live a healthier life, and so alters my fate. Even now, he is a hero because he is loved and he teaches the loved ones who visit him to cherish the time spent together. Even the quiet moments around breakfast have a certain magic. He teaches us not to let the shadow of the inevitable, tarnish the time we have. In doing this he inspires all of us to get the most from life, to live healthier, and to fear nothing, which changes our fates as drastically as a flood can change a river’s course. His flood of enlightenment, and strength has changed the course of my life’s river, and for that he is my hero, and I am thankful.
As Frank has now set sail on his journey to brighter shores, I find the smallest part of my heart smiling, and teaching the rest of my heart to do the same. I am sad, and I am happy. I am sad mostly for selfish reasons. I want to hear one more story, tell one more joke, watch one more movie, light one more bottle rocket with him. I am happy because I know that Frank’s suffering has ended, but also because I know that the next life has been saving a special role just for him. I do not know what happens after this life. If there is a heaven, then I imagine Frank is driving his boat through the clouds and keeping busy crabbing and fishing and playing his guitar as he watches us down here. If the life after this one involves reincarnation, then I know that Frank is beginning again as an infant who will know unconditional love, and whose karma from this lifetime will provide him with many blessings in the next. If we are reincarnated then I must also declare another truth, which I believe with all my heart. Love like this, that we have all shared with Frank and each other, is unending, and will lead us to find each other in the next life. No matter what lies beyond, I know this: Frank is safe and happy wherever he is, because his soul is wrapped in the love and good wishes of his family and friends. I am happy, because I know that when our times come, Frank will be waiting on that distant shore, to signal us home with bottle rockets, to celebrate our arrival with a barbeque, and to show us once more that he is still the kindhearted and humorous hero whom we all love so much.
