Uncle Steve

     Good morning. My name is Jeff Faber and Steve Kulavick is my Uncle Steve. It is an honor to speak with you today as we celebrate Steve's life. In recent conversations I have had with different people who knew Steve, the same words were repeatedly used to describe him. Kind. Fun. Hard-working. A storyteller with a bigger-than-life personality. A proud father with profound love for his son Chad. Uncle Steve was all these things and so much more. Chad, I want to thank you for sharing your father with me and I hope you find these words represent him well.

     I would like to speak with you this morning about time. On occasions like this, I believe it is natural to reflect on time, life, mortality, and perhaps even our own legacies. Now, it may sound like I have it all figured out but that is not my intention. I do not. I certainly do not and, more than likely, neither do you. That is okay. People often refer to time as fleeting but sometimes, just sometimes, a moment lingers--and settles--and remains for much more than a moment. It is these special times that live on as memories. They represent the most special people and most special places; we capture them and keep them forever in our hearts and minds. Even better, recalling these memories, even a fleeting recollection, can bring the emotion we felt when first experienced.

     It was a time and a memory that you shared with Steve that brought you here this morning. Maybe it was a quick encounter, maybe it lasted a lifetime, or maybe something in between. Regardless, you are here, and I thank you for honoring and celebrating Steve. Like you, I have time and memories with my Uncle Steve. Time. Time is strange. For as much as time is designed to be concrete and to organize our existence, it is abstract and, unfortunately, it can easily get away from you. Although I have known Uncle Steve my entire life, people grow up, people move away, people move on. I wish it were different--but time stops for no one.

     I would like to share a few of my memories with you. Before I do, I would like each of you to silently recall a time or memory you have of Steve. Perhaps it is a story he shared with you? My Uncle Steve had many stories to tell. Over the last several weeks and in contemplating the story of my Uncle Steve's life, I am reminded of a quote from the novel Big Fish. It goes, "it is impossible to separate fact from the fiction, the man from the myth. The best I can do is tell it the way he told it. It does not always make sense, and most of it never happened. But that is the kind of story this is." I'm not sure where Steve is, but I am sure it is a little louder and a little more fun wherever that is.

     I can't speak at length to Steve's early childhood, but I know he was born and raised in Gary, Indiana and cherished his mother Lorraine, sister Joann, and brother Joe along with many extended family members. I can't speak at length to Steve's teenage years, but I know he attended Lew Wallace High School (Go Hornets!) and was a terrific baseball player. For a time, I understand Steve wanted classmates to call him "Bob." "Bob Kulavick." I can't speak at length to Steve's years in the United States Navy, but I know he served with honor, pride, and sacrificed for our country.

     Here is what I can speak at length to. To me, Uncle Steve was always larger than life. He was always the person I most wanted to see at holidays and family gatherings. But Uncle Steve was most important to me when I needed him the most--my teenage years. With no father of my own during that time, Uncle Steve gave me the most precious gifts one person can give another; time and unconditional love. And along the way, I had the time of my life! I had a blast with someone I considered a father and someone I considered a brother. Chad, I still do.

     I could go on and on about things Uncle Steve taught me, ways he included me, and the love I felt from him. To name a few: the rules of Home Run Derby although, to be honest, I felt like the rules fluctuated based on the score; an appreciation of the fine arts--okay movies--and the feeling of missing school to see the premiere of the latest blockbuster; the simple joys of fishing; being a real fan of the Bears, Bulls, Blackhawks, and White Sox (yes, we are Southsiders); an appreciation of fine cuisine--okay--Slurpee's, Red Vine licorice, and homemade pizzas; and the power of Elvis and Motown--The Temptations, The Supremes, The Isley Brothers, and Martha & The Vandellas to name a few. Arguably, it sounds like superficial things. But for me, it was never about the games, the movies, the sports, the food, or the music. It was the time Uncle Steve devoted and the fatherly love I felt--and so desperately needed. I never loved a man more than I loved my Uncle Steve.

     Uncle Steve and I did not have many deep conversations, but I do recall things he said to me over the years. The first was about working hard whether that be at school, at work, or at life. My Uncle Steve never had an easy job, but I recall him saying, "You wake up. You work hard. You work honest. And then you do it again." Some people live to work; my Uncle Steve worked to live--and live he did! About my own father, it would have been easy for Uncle Steve to disparage my father; he likely had reasons to do so. One day Uncle Steve said to me, "I don't understand why your father made certain decisions, but everybody makes mistakes. It doesn't make them all bad." Years later, when I had three young daughters of my own, we would visit Uncle Steve usually at the pool. My daughters, who are now grown, would call him "Uncle Fred." I remember initially correcting them, but Uncle Steve said, "let them call me whatever they want, I'm just enjoying my time with them."

     I know I will never be able to pay it back to him, but his legacy does live on. In me and in each of you. Whether you knew him as a son, brother, husband, father, uncle, grandfather, or friend. Whether you knew him as Steve, Uncle Steve, Uncle Fred, or Bob--if you knew Steve Kulavick, you loved Steve Kulavick. "When a man's actions and stories are remembered, then he is truly immortal."

     I had not seen Uncle Steve for a long time; far too long. I was able to visit him recently and for a glimpse--or a series of glimpses--it was like old times. For that, I am eternally grateful. I would like to conclude with words Uncle Steve shared with me during our last visit. Chad, your father said this, and I don't want you to forget it. Your father said, "I have had lots of people in my life, but Chad has always been my special person." Those words were true that day, the days before they were spoken, and I hope they linger, settle, and remain with you forever.