Uncle Clint-Rock

The most confident person I know is my uncle Clinton. He is also the toughest son-of-a-gun I’ve ever met. There aren’t a lot of photos of him, as he hates getting his picture taken.

This man has survived bowel, liver, and lung cancer. He’s 69 years old and turns 70 this April. He met each cancer diagnosis with the confidence that he would be cured. He would never accept that he was sick. He knew he had a condition, but that was never going to slow him down. He is a meditator. When asked how he overcame his cancer and how he dealt with the situation, he credited Reiki and a strong belief in self-healing. Hence the nickname “Clint-Rock.” I gave it to him after his last bout of liver cancer.

I remember the conversation at the side of his hospital bed after they removed three-quarters of his liver. I said to him, “You’re tougher than the hardest stone on the planet; you’re as solid as a rock. Ain’t nothing going to take out a rolling stone like you.” He laughed and said, “Clinton Clint-stone Dean.” Of course, he was coming out of anesthesia. I laughed with him, then replied, “Clint-Rock-Stone, the toughest, most confident son-of-a-gun on the planet.” We laughed some more, then I left to let him rest and recover. That was 15 years ago. Ever since that day, I’ve called him Uncle Clint-Rock. Everyone else in the family took a liking to it as well, so that’s what we all call him.

He’s the best, most loyal, and loving uncle. He’s been there for every one of his 15 nieces and nephews. He’s always there to coach us along, instilling confidence in whatever we’re doing. He has taken some of us in, helped out financially, and got businesses off the ground. He’s our comfort in times of grief and always keeps the peace. He’s widely respected by the older adults in the family, too. He’s a hard worker and has always seemed like he had a lot of money. Although, at times, he was just as broke as the rest of us; that never stopped him from getting whatever any of us needed, even if that meant taking on more work and sometimes going around the clock.

He’s had many careers: insurance salesman, real estate agent, painter, roofer, factory worker, taxi driver, apartment building manager, delivery driver, and now he works for the hospital, transporting patients to and from appointments for chemo, physiotherapy, dental care, and so on. He’s a great man with a huge heart and the confidence to go along with it. He once told me about his brush with death, how he wasn’t afraid and how he’s always been quite confident that we all get to a beautiful place when we do pass away.

He said that during one of his lung surgeries, he saw a tunnel and a bright light and at the end; his mother was there, waving to him, saying, “Not yet, son; see you later.” And that experience gave him even more confidence that life was going to be what it is, but he was going to enjoy every minute of it.