Following is a poem I wrote celebrating my Uncle Keith.
Larger Than Life
Keith Noel
Keith was the last child
The youngest of three,
The apple of Gram’s eye,
Her forever (and ever) baby.
Wright and Wanda claimed he was spoiled,
He could do no wrong.
At this Gram just smiled…..
And Keith played along.
I didn’t understand---
How could one spoil one’s boy?
Now I have one of my own
And I get it---- the JOY!
The last one is special,
Not better, not worse.
A buddy, whose place at the end,
Sometimes makes him first.
Keith was the first
On more than Gram’s list.
His twinkling eyes
Will be greatly missed.
We cherish his laugh,
His hands and his hugs.
We all felt his humor,
His goodness, his love.
Oh that laugh---
His whole body shook!
When we heard it we’d come
To have our own look.
Was it a joke or a story?
A lie or a game?
Whatever it was,
The effect was the same.
We all loved to hear it
Again and again.
Jokes..ah, yes….
Uncle Keith was the king.
He told Dad jokes
Before they were “a thing”.
“Have you ever eaten bear?”
He’d ask so sincere.
And then, when he knew
That he had your ear,
He’d say, with a face
As straight as a reed,
“I considered it once
But feared I would freeze.”
Practical jokes were his forte
As well
There are so many examples
That I’d love to tell.
No one was immune to his
More devious side.
He was willing to take all
For the proverbial “ride”.
Then when his eyes
Turned twinkling and blue,
You knew that he knew
That he’d really got you.
He got us alright;
We were all on his side
Though we suspect in some of
His stories he lied….
As Noels tend to do,
Uncle Keith did so well.
There was some tallness in
The tales he’d tell.
Thanksgiving lie swaps
Were a favorite of all
When we’d gather at Keith’s
To eat in the fall.
Thanksgiving dinner
At Edie and Keith’s….
Food, family and fun,
It was truly a feast.
Uncle Keith made the scones,
Edie roasted the beast.
Then we played games like Hearts.
The banter never ceased.
Uncle Keith was a cook.
His skills exceed mine.
His Black Butte bread was amazing
And his scones just divine.
Meat he could barbeque
In a large pit
But never a veggie
Would he let cross his lip!
Those lips didn’t touch veggies
But there were things they did do,
Like speak loving words
That were gentle and true.
When he looked in my eyes
And asked “Girl, how are you?”
I knew that his interest was real,
All the way through.
Keith had many gifts,
Like talking to kids,
Which he used to bless others
In the things that he did.
He worked miracles
With wood, varnish, saws and glue
Making marble tracks, play stoves,
And annoying kahzoos!
He was part John Wayne,
Part Navajo too.
A man who paid
What was morally due.
Perhaps the best deed
Of his truly great life
Was convincing dear Edie
To be his sweet wife.
Loyal and lovely,
Direct and dear,
We cherish her, honor her,
And will keep her near.
Uncle Keith defied physics,
Making math laws untrue:
He did what should be
Impossible to do.
Though a large man in stature---
He was not of small girth,
The heart housed inside him
Was bigger than Earth.
Dear Uncle Keith,
You are larger than life.
You’ll be ours forever,
You and your wife,
Thanks to the love
And blood of our Christ.