Travis J. Maciejewski, Defining Squares

Defining Squares

by Travis J. Maciejewski No one ever thinks about how they could be seeing a loved one for the last time. In the spring of 2020, my great uncle David lost his battle to cancer. He was diagnosed with stage four colon cancer in late 2018 and the doctors explained that he did not have much time left. He was about five foot two and on the chubbier side. His hair was grey and thinning. He always had a surprised look in his eyes. My great uncle was a brilliant man. He was a psychologist for most of his career. I will always cherish his words of wisdom for the rest of my life. I wished I could have seen him more than once a year. My great uncle loved using analogies to describe and explain topics. For instance, he taught me that our lives represent a patch quilt; we choose each square to depict who we are. Once every year, my cousin Easton and I would plan to visit our great uncle David. He lived in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin. It is only a three-hour drive, but our schedules never lined up perfectly to see him. My cousin and I worked out a time to visit him over spring break in 2019. I was 16 at the time, and I was five foot nine. I was a little heavier then, I weighed 210 pounds. Easton was two years younger than I. He was 6 feet tall and weighed 250 pounds. We had a week off from school, and we worked at the cranberry marsh for the first two days of break. My mom arranged for us to meet David in Appleton on Wednesday. He took us to lunch at HuHot Mongolian Grill. That was my first time going there, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I had fried rice stir fry with some sort of seasoned beef. Then he took us to Hobby Lobby to buy us a special gift. He bought us each a little treasure chest to keep important items in that we accumulate over our lives. They were small wooden boxes with metal trim neatly around all the edges. We were still in Appleton and were heading to Sturgeon Bay. My great uncle drove a little Toyota Camry. It had a manual transmission and crank windows with a cloth gray interior. I remember Easton jabbing at me, “These windows roll down a lot nicer than the ones in your truck”. I thought it was funny, but our uncle thought it was a little rude. He went on about how we should not judge people on how nice of things they own or their situations. It was silent for a while as we cruised down the highway, five under the speed limit of course. David asked us, “Who are you?”. “I’m a redneck,” my cousin replied. My great uncle David thought that was a weird reply. He went on and asked my cousin for his definition of a redneck. My cousin looked a little surprised and elaborated on his response. He explained that rednecks drive big lifted trucks and wear cowboy hats. David told Easton about his stereotyped definition of a redneck. He stated that rednecks are known to be illiterate, live in doublewide trailers and have poor spending habits. My uncle asked, “Is that what you want people to think when you tell them that you are a redneck? Because from what I observe, you are an intelligent young man with more potential than that.” I listened and wondered how I would answer the question. He went on to explain a very important analogy that I will never forget. David explained that we possess more than one title. Essentially, we can be represented as a patch quilt. Each square is a title that we may use periodically. We are brothers, sisters, farmers, or students. Who we are is very important, so we should represent and take pride in ourselves. To continue, we finished the conversation just as we pulled into his long driveway. He lived on a 40-acre lot completely immersed by nature. He built his home directly in the center of the property. There were neatly trimmed white pines all around us. We all went inside and we were greeted by Aunt Pam. She was tall and thin with dark hair. Pam was a sweet lady with

a warming smile. David began to cook dinner. He made chuck roasts and new potatoes. They were harvested a few days prior. He was an amazing cook. While dinner was cooking, he walked over to the bookshelf and pulled one out from the middle of the shelf called Stone Soup. He read it aloud to us. The story was about two French soldiers who walked into a poor farm town. They were starving from walking all day and they asked the town’s people for food. None of them had any to offer. The soldiers traveled to the center of the town and started to boil water in a large metal cauldron. They dropped two smoothed river stones into the pot. A farmer approached and asked them what they were making. The soldiers were making stone soup but convinced the farmer that it would taste better with some carrots. Slowly all the towns’ people were tricked into giving the soldiers some of their ingredients for the stone soup. Once it was done, they all shared the soup and the towns’ people thanked the soldiers. This was another lesson our great uncle wanted to teach to us. If we all work together and give a little, it can create good in the world. Finally, our lives are like a patch quilt; we can choose who we want to become with each square. My great uncle was an amazing man, and I am saddened that I never was able to say goodbye to him for the last time. He has taught me many lessons and has given me lots of memories that I will never forget. You should always make time for the ones you love before it is too late. As a remembrance, my cousin and I drive to Sturgeon Bay every year and eat at his favorite restaurant.