Great-Uncle J

Before the sun revealed itself on Thursday morning, I was wide awake... on the streets of my neighborhood running. In complete darkness I was coated in a soft rainfall--it was the peace I needed to prepare my heavy heart for a sorrowful weekend ahead. Following a shower, quick breakfast, and a stop by the kennel (to drop Louis off for his first stay. Sigh.) Mom, Dad, and I were Michigan bound.

Last Thursday, October 21, my Great-Uncle J passed away. The past three months, proceeding multiple-bypass surgery, have been extremely difficult for him... and much of the extended family too. After a lifetime full of living and loving, his body was tired. And somehow we, following our own trails of grief, will have to accept his passing. For now, I am thankful to have known him for these 24 years. I am grateful he was given 90 precious years of his own.

Even if you can look back on a lifetime brimming with memories, losing someone is never, ever easy. Here I am, sipping chai tea--the time is nearing 8 pm on a Sunday evening, short on words to express myself. To say this weekend was tough sounds redundant and weak. My relatives are aging, suffice it to say their health is beyond my control. These people are the foundation of me--I want protect them from the elements, keep them close to me.

There are too many wonderful pieces of Great-Uncle J's history to share. I will remember him as a storyteller--born in Czechoslovakia and raised on the Mississippi River--with some of the greatest tales to tell. He was a kindhearted soul who adored both his grandsons. A wise man who valued education, spending much of his career as a school principal.

I'm torn up inside accepting he's gone, though more so when I think of my Great-Aunt B--the wife, of 56 years, he left behind. Throughout the past six years of my letter correspondence with Great-Aunt B, I have learned what a dignified woman she is. She represents all that is good, living a life of grace and compassion. In all of our time together, she has never disclosed an unkind word. Likewise to Great-Uncle B, she dotes on her grandsons, maintaining a central focus on family. For as far back as my memories date, she has always been glad to see me or happy to receive a letter from me; she has taken a genuine interest in my life. And her most redeeming quality, is her unfailingly cheerfulness... so to see her this weekend, broken and sad was awful. I have never experienced the sound of sadness.

The phone just rang, it was Great-Aunt B calling--wanting to thank each of us, individually, for attending the funeral this weekend. And tomorrow, she's going to dive right back into the pool and continue her swimming routine. This is the type of woman she is, uncomplaining--able to endure and overcome.

My cousin A started his personal reflection with a Mark Twain quote the audience agreed was an accurate depiction of a life we will forever remember and honor. I will leave you with these words, "One can be a hero to other folk, and in a sort of vague way understand it, or at least believe it, but that a person can really be a hero to a near and familiar friend is a thing which no hero has ever yet been able to realize, I am sure."

(This is a non-traditional post... but tonight... I needed this.)