Don't forget to remember, final

We called him “Clarm”, short for Uncle Armand, my mother’s younger brother.  I can still hear him playing Creedance Clearwater Revival in the back bedroom, and coming into the kitchen happy as a kid declaring all is well.  “C’est c’est bon bon” he’d say, talk/laughing.  He’d come to stay with us to help my mom out shortly after my dad had left.  He was not tied down to anything or anyone, landed a temporary job with another uncle, bunked in the back bedroom and provided support for a short while.  That was him, he’d come, then he’d go, and he was always happy.  Turns out he had lived his life like that, was married for a week or so, didn’t work out, life of every party, worrying my grandmother…not worrying himself.  He had something special rolled up in his smoking papers and loved to drink beer, and wander to the next gig.  He served in the military during the time of the Vietnam War, but was lucky enough to be directed to Europe.  He most likely served because he needed something to do, and when his tour was up, he’d find something else to do.  Unlike any other adult in my life, he connected with old and young, had no high expectations of anyone, even himself.  I loved being around him.  I grew up and went to college and then on to Alaska and got married.  One day, I had a knock on my door.  It was Clarm, so unexpected.  He had come to some awareness that the life he was living was leading him nowhere, so he ran away from home, New Hampshire…to the farthest place he could get to, Alaska.  And he was not turning back.  But the air quality did not suit him or his lungs, he was sick.  I don’t know how he found me, but he did, and he came to live with me, staying in my spare bedroom.  And he stayed there long after I left.  He met and married Rosa, started businesses, and lived a rich and adventurous life.  He found his path and got his health back.    After many years in the last frontier, he purchased a home and a business back in the land of his roots, New Hampshire.  He was ready to return, and he did with three young sons who were teetering on manhood.  Rosa became very ill with cancer, and lost her battle in 2019.  The last conversation I had with Clarm, he was in the hospital fighting something in his lungs.  When he recovered he was planning to develop the land he owned on the mountain and ride his four wheeler and hunt and fish with his boys.  He never recovered, following Rosa by just a few months, leaving their boys without parents in 2020 just as they were trying to figure out life.  When I think about how serious life gets, how difficult it can seem to strive, I remember my special Uncle, who didn’t grow up too soon, who laughed always, and never took himself seriously, sprinkling joy wherever he went.  C’est c’est bon bon, it is good, it is good.  It was so good to know you Clarm, thank you for teaching me that growing up does not mean letting go of that kid within me…and that all is well, hee, hee!