He was born David Thomas Waselewski.
But to most people, he was simply Uncle Dave.
From the moment you met Uncle Dave, he had a way of putting you at ease, making you feel like a member of his family.
Maybe it was his omni-present smile and heartwarming laugh that made everything glow like the moment the sun hits the horizon.
Uncle Dave was a people person. He brought harmony to a gathering like that last puzzle piece that snugly fits into a complex equation.
Uncle Dave loved movies, and he was always able to recite a line from almost any film to make you laugh and drive home a point.
It was hard to be around Uncle Dave and not feel warmth. He was like the United Nations, able to understand the differences in people, yet bridge the gap between them to find common ground.
Uncle Dave didn’t pre-judge people.
He would shake your hand with a firm grip taught to him by his father. He would look you in the eye and peek into your heart. He had an undeniable ability to size people up quickly and use that innate knowledge to make you comfortable.
I always felt like Uncle Dave was a fan of humanity, rooting for the underdog to succeed, to excel.
Uncle Dave had a way of making you feel at ease partly because he was so comfortable in his own skin. He was fun like a child’s birthday party where the blindfolded birthday boy hits the pinata donkey causing a tidal wave of candy to spill out.
Uncle Dave was a man of his word. If he said he would do something, he did it. He was reliable like a sun dial on a cloudless day.
Uncle Dave was a blue-collar man with a white-collar pedigree.
His work ethic was forged by his parents and his Michigan upbringing. He learned the value of sweat equity and working with his hands. Uncle Dave understood what an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay truly meant.
Uncle Dave was a gifted athlete with superb hand eye coordination. It made him a stellar college baseball player and excellent golfer who could hit the ball straight and far.
Educated at Western Michigan University, this is where Uncle Dave’s natural talent for design flourished.
This is also where he met the love of his life. Wendy Stokes. After a story book romance, the two wed.
She became The Aunt Wendy to his Uncle Dave. It’s kind of like when the Ying met the Yang and they knew they completed one another.
Together, Aunt Wendy and Uncle Dave found love and adventure. They doubled down on their supreme talents, creating one of the most successful graphic arts studios in Chicago catering to major clients like Kellogg’s and NASCAR.
They traveled the globe, drinking in the sun, while relishing the underwater world that few of us ever know.
Uncle Dave had a talent for being talented. He had a sharp eye and uncanny ability to choose the right color, the right shape the perfect font.
Wendy was a natural salesperson, who made grown businessmen feel happy like they were in kindergarten.
Together the Ying and Yang, the Aunt Wendy to the Uncle Dave flourished, becoming an in dominatable team that succeeded in business, and life.
They would celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary in 2022.
They finished each other’s sentences. They laughed at each other’s jokes. They reveled in each other’s stories, most of which were joined together at the hip after so many shared experiences.
Then on November 26th, Uncle Dave passed away. In the glow of his newly erected Christmas tree, the man who made others happy and comfortable, slipped into the great beyond.
I cannot know this for sure, but I would bet, when Uncle Dave arrived at the celestial gates to Nirvana, he was greeted by a marching band of angels all of whom know the heart of a man.
As I walk up my stairs, I think of Uncle Dave. Out of the goodness of his heart, he refurbished my entire stairwell. He cut the boards and sanded the wood and layered the grain with coat after coat of sealant.
His punctilious focus on this project was similar to how he attacked all the endeavors in his life. With conviction and professionalism and pride.
As the wood creaks, and my socks slide over the smooth varnish of the landing, I think about the great man who is now gone.
Uncle Dave brought his Michigan blue collar sweat equity to my stairs and created a masterpiece. Thanks to him, my stairs are literally the focal point of my home. People stop and stare and marvel at the beauty that he created.
He didn’t want money. He didn’t want anything in return.
Uncle Dave simply wanted a strong handshake, a thank you, a look in the eye, and the realization that he had brought joy to another person’s life.
MY LIFE.
There are many people who anonymously come and go on this planet.
They are born. They live. They die. Like a tree that falls in the woods, did it really matter?
And then there’s Uncle Dave. A renaissance man with the loyalty of a Labrador and the heart of an angel.
Uncle Dave is now home, resting on a sofa of clouds, watching his beloved Detroit Lions eek out another win.
And If I know Uncle Dave, he has his trusty toolbox beside him, giving the Pearly Gates a face lift, free of charge.
RIP IN PEACE UNCLE DAVE.
WE MISS YOU