Sailing takes me away

I don’t remember much about him. He was only 28 years old when he died, and I was quickly approaching 4 ½. But the memories I do have of him, I cherish. I try to imagine the impact I would have on my nephew Chase who is very close to the age I was when my beloved Uncle Matt died, but it’s just too heartbreaking to think about.

My Uncle Matt was my mom’s only brother. When everyone else in my family thought I was a boy, he had a dream that I was a girl. That will always be a special story to me. (But for the record I had a dream that Che & Jeana were having a girl and 9 months later Chase James Carrasco was born!) I remember him putting me on his shoulders and carrying me into grandma’s house to get a Reese’s peanut butter cup out of the cookie jar on top of the refrigerator. I can see him sitting in the rocking chair at grandma’s house and me running from the back door into him to sit on his lap. He loved to hear me sing and I can recall my mom asking me to sing “Three Little Monkeys” to him. There are stories I don’t remember too – my mom said he would call my brothers & me every Sunday night to talk to us before we went to bed. His pet name for me was “Ermies” which some of my family still calls me today. When all the “guys” were going out for a cruise on the pontoon one evening up at our cottage, my dad told me I could not go. Who let me get on the boat with them? Uncle Matt.

Although I don’t remember much about him, I know I was special to him. I was his only niece, and his heart was full of love for me and my brothers.

Sadly enough, I do remember when he died. I remember his casket and him being in it at Brown’s Funeral Home on Davison Road. I can remember peering into it, and not quite knowing what was going on. The biggest memory of it to me, was that there were butterscotch candies in the hallway so I was leaving the room frequently to get my fill of candy. At one point they must have been praying the rosary because the door was closed and someone from the funeral home had to let me back in the parlor. But the saddest memory of that time period – likely not days or months but more like years – was the crying that my grandma and mom did constantly. I would run into my grandma’s bathroom and get her a kleenex and bring it to her. I didn’t know why she was crying, but I wanted to make it better.

My grandma has always said how I helped her get through that time of her life – it was very hard to be sad when a 4 year old was depending on you and would do anything to make you happy.

Uncle Matt died 23 years ago, tomorrow November 21. He died of an accidental drug overdose. He was in the company of friends at the time he died and they knew something wasn’t right with him, but they just went to bed. I don’t wish those people ill will (both of them are dead now, I believe) but I could never have an ounce of respect for them because they let my uncle die. I can’t imagine how many ways the lives of my family would have been different had he lived. I might have an aunt or cousins – my mom would have a brother, my grandma would have a son.

The few memories I have of my Uncle Matt are precious. I can’t help but get teary when I hear songs that he liked, or when I see his picture at my grandma’s or my mom’s house. I may have only been 4 when he died, but my love for and memories of him will last a lifetime.

In memory of you, Uncle Matt.

Matthew James Smith
7/17/1957 – 11/21/1985

I love you always,

Ermies.