I want to tell you about my Uncle Jimmy

Philip James Schenkel—my dad's little brother—passed away yesterday. He was 81.

Uncle Jimmy was the middle child of five—with Uncle Bobby and my dad being the oldest, and Uncle Ricky and Aunt Phyllis being the youngest.

Back, L to R: Uncles Ricky, Jimmy and Bobby;
Middle: Aunt Phyllis; Front: Dad

Family was important to all of them. In fact, the first memory that comes to mind were Orange Bowl parties at Uncle Jimmy's house on New Year's Day when the Nebraska Cornhuskers played some losing team (national champions back to back to back, baby!). The brothers were watching the game. Their wives and Aunt Phyllis were in the kitchen. The kids were playing unsupervised wherever we wanted—probably running with scissors. It was the 70s, man!

Dad was the glue in the family—he was the one who organized the family reunions and made sure everyone showed up to make runzas have a good time. While I was looking for pictures of Uncle Jimmy today, I found at least four such reunions. Here's one with the next generation of Schenkels, my niece Margeaux and my nephew Nick. And there's my Uncle Jimmy, second from right, with his ever-present smile:

Eventually, we lost Uncle Bobby, but Dad, Uncle Jimmy and Uncle Ricky made the trek from Lincoln to Greeley, where my Uncle Bobby was living then, for the funeral. If you know me, then you know that the way I process grief is often through humor. Gosh, I wonder where I got that from? 🤣 I remember this evening before the service just sitting in a hotel lobby and laughing the night away:

Although I spent a lot of time with Uncle Jimmy and his family growing up, it wasn't until Vic and I started driving to Nebraska every year that I grew much closer to him. You can imagine how some family members might balk at the idea of their beloved daughter/sister/niece dating and then marrying a man 17 years her senior ... but not Uncle Jimmy. He welcomed Vic with open arms (as did all of my family ... eventually 😂) from the very start and always made him feel included and loved.

Every time we went to Nebraska, we made sure to spend time with Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Nancy.

We would often go to The sllonK for dinner (actually The Knolls, but my dad had this thing about pronouncing words backward—I still remember the first time we passed through an unincorporated town and the word "detaroprocninu" just flew off his tongue—and then everyone else just started calling it The sllonK, too), after which we would drive around Lincoln, often starting in the North Bottoms, where Dad's family settled, and then passing by the little house where Grandma Rose and Grandpa Phil lived with their children—my dad and his siblings. Dad and Uncle Jimmy would narrate, and we never heard the same story twice.

Vic would always make us get out of the car at some point so he could take a picture of us. This is my all-time favorite:

Many a trip ended at the Village Inn, where everyone would meet for breakfast before we headed back to Colorado. We almost always did some jokey pose—Vic rarely got a clean shot of us. The thing that strikes me about this picture is that my mom and my stepmom are in it. They were both close to Aunt Nancy, and Norma (my stepmom) just wasn't intimidated by Dad's ex-wife. (I know this post is supposed to be about Uncle Jimmy, but shout-out to Norma, the best stepmom of all time.)

The last time I saw Uncle Jimmy was at my beloved cousin Kimmy's funeral not quite three years ago. He wasn't doing well—both physically and emotionally. He was pretty much in constant pain, and he had just lost his daughter suddenly and without warning. But he still had the ability to summon a smile to his face, which is how I'll always think of him.

I loved getting the occasional text from him, always signed "Love ya, Uncle Jim," as if I wouldn't know who it was from. He would tell me what TV show they were watching and what was going on in it, or what the weather was like, or how he missed my dad/his brother. After Kimmy died, we talked a lot about grief.

My heart goes out to my Aunt Nancy, my cousin Chris, my Aunt Kathy (Uncle Jimmy's first wife), and all of our family and friends who loved Uncle Jimmy. I've been getting a lot of texts from my family today, and they all say the same thing: "He was a really good guy" and "He was the best." And they are all right.

I'll leave you with a few of my favorite pictures of Uncle Jimmy and me. I couldn't have loved him more.

After a nice dinner we had in Lincoln—maybe at The sllonK?

At one of our many meals together—I'll bet this was at the Garden Cafe

At my college graduation party