Larry, Gene, and Mike

Left to right: Michael, Carol, Gene.
Larry is excluded.

My mother has three brothers. It was always a lamentable fact of her life that she never had a sister. Despite this, I believe her childhood existence was made ten times more exciting by these boys, who were perhaps the world's best mischief makers.
My uncles keep very good company. They have all gone in the teaching direction; namely at BYU-Idaho and the Marriott School of Business. Through these dynamic, intelligent men I claim a distant aquaintaince to such well-knowns as Orson Scott Card and James Christensen.
Larry, the eldest, has a subtle, intelligent, wit, with a definite value and stress upon the written word. Some of the best book discussions I have ever encountered have taken place in his living room. There are shelves upon shelves of books stacked floor to ceiling-- all of which he's read. In the bedroom downstairs- lovingly referred to as "Tut's tomb"- I have been happily introduced to Dante's Inferno, the biography of Adolph Hitler, and Voltaire's Candide.
Walking a few blocks west of Uncle Larry's brings us to Uncle Gene's house. This house has harbored all my ideals of joyful cousindom. Squirt gun fights, laser tag, Nintendo, and always a few odd cats... Gene's was the highlight of Idaho visits. The backyard is a fairyland, with waterfalls and century old trees. I always delighted in Phyllis's claw footed tubs, and in the antiquity of the quaint kitchen. Talking to my uncle Gene creates a certain level of intensity that is formidable and exciting simultaneously. Gene is, in every respect, the Mr. Crump of BYU-Idaho. Most of the students hate him, because of the accelerated level of his class. And yet he is well loved in the community because students approach his course as children and leave as emperors. Passing is a notable feat.
Traveling south several hours brings us to the last and youngest brother, Michael. Michael is a perfectly balanced combination of his two brothers, and the sibling who was closest to my mother. He too is intense, and talking to him is like coming up with a thesis; you have to dig through his words to comprehend, and then surmise until you can tell him your own thoughts on the case. Michael has a lovely voice, and no one will ever forget how he would sing in church with my Grandpa; two angelic tenors who blended perfectly.
Larry, Gene, and Mike are the epitome of uncles, and I could not have asked for a more perfect trio. If I ever need a book to read, a lively debate, or help with a thesis, I'll know who to call.

Dolli

My grandma Dolli is my namesake.
She was a tiny spitfire with naturally jet-black hair. When I picture her in my mind she is wearing pink lipstick and waving her cane. She was filled to the brim with hot Spanish blood; her quick temper and impassioned actions have become legend in the Thompson family.
She grew up devoutly Catholic. Her prayers were long, studious, and heartfelt. Every day she visited our house her footsteps on my pink carpet led to three secret Kit-Kats on my nightstand: one for Koseli, one for Shirsti, and one for me. It was this simple spirit of giving that set Dolli apart from everyone else.
I have saved every letter I have received from Grandma. The envelopes are colorfully ornamented with Suzie's Zoo stickers. Inside the paper is line upon line of perfect, dark, cursive. I know her best through this mail correspondence. Indeed, she kept friends from the first or second grade this way. She was an expert in that category.
She spoke her mind. Sometimes this was uncomfortable for us, but we always brushed it off. She was too kind and good to take offense. After all, Grandma Dolli was the most spontaneous and the wisest woman I have ever known.
A few weeks before she passed away she took to drinking coffee. It spruced her up, she said. When my mother went to visit her, my dear grandma tried to hide the evidence.
"Bring it in quietly," she'd tell the nurses, "I don't want Carol to know."
Dolli was the woman who took the unfortunate under wings. She spoiled, and pinched, and pampered all of us.
It was an honor to know her.