Family Notes: Wayne Oliver

Today finds me making another post to commemorate someone lost within my community.  My Uncle Wayne passed away suddenly this week.  It's stunned me into silence over the last couple of days.

I'm sorry if my blog is beginning to feel like a memorial page, but I process grief through words. Sometimes, it's all I have. When I'm face to face with people, I don't know what to say or how to act, but, somehow, when I sit in front of a computer screen and let my fingers dance across the keys, I find a way to say something. There's a lot to say about my uncle, too much to say here, but I wanted to capture a couple of things about him that are important to me personally.

My uncle Wayne, or Wayne O, was a formidable man. He was a successful businessman, a community presence in both local organizations and government, he was a baseball father figure to more people than I can possible comprehend, and he was a loving uncle, father and husband. These are his résumé bullet points, the place we begin when we discuss a life, but there are details underneath these facts that make them poignant, as there are with any life.

How do you sum up a man like Wayne?

You don't.  There are too many aspects about him that need attention, that deserve time and words, but I don't have the energy to do it all.  The one thing I can say about Wayne is that I love him and I respect him.  The reason for this is because Wayne never asked me for either of those things.  Many people, once they achieve success, power, or notoriety, can fall victim to their own press, to their own accolades.  This wasn't true of my uncle.  In sports, they call it showboating.  Wayne was not a showboater.  He was the consummate workhorse when it came to almost every aspect of his life.  He didn't rest on his laurels, he didn't rely on his talents, but, instead, he worked for the things he had and he didn't ask a single other person to recognize him for it.

Knute Rockne is quoted as having said, "One man practicing sportsmanship is far better than 50 preaching it." I can't think of anyone in my life who embodied this more than my uncle.  He lived to be a good sportsman.  In fact, my brother just told me the other day that Wayne was the only coach who ever benched him for a bad attitude.  It was during a baseball game and he benched him defensively in the middle of an inning.  Anyone who has ever played baseball knows how big a deal that is.  Wayne couldn't tolerate bad sportsmanship.  And, like Knute Rockne indicated, his life served as an example to the rest of us.  We'll miss you, Wayne.  We'll miss your example.  We'll miss your humor, but we'll never let go of your example.  You've coached us well.