Family loss

I’ve always been very close to my dad’s family. There were eight children, seven boys and one girl. I have twenty-four cousins and since Grandmother lived close to us I got to know all those cousins pretty well. Dad’s was the generation who grew up during the depression and fought in WWII. All of them served in the military and to my amusement, the one girl outranked all her brothers!

I always enjoyed listening to that generation. They told great stories, some were even true. They were all interesting and funny and got along amazingly well.  Once years ago, we cousins got together to make sure each of them got the same tee-shirt for Christmas. It read, “Often wrong, but never in doubt!” This was them for sure, but they were always good natured as they set out to prove one point or another.

 One of the worst things about getting older has been losing members of this greatest generation. But one by one we did. Two were left, one is ninety-three and in a nursing home. He’s not doing well and the other, the baby of the family at eighty-three, a practicing doctor. To the shock of us all we lost this youngest uncle last week. 

He and his wife were on a Disney Cruise when it happened. He’d taking a snorkeling excursion. He was an excellent swimmer. When everyone gathered to head back, he wasn’t among them. He was found by another boat who got him aboard and preformed CPR, but it was too late. 

He was a great and interesting man. He traveled the world, he and his wife went on many mission trips with their church, he traveled to Italy to see the Shroud of Turin. He was a skilled surgeon for many years and as those skills diminished he turned to pain management and wound care. I’m grateful he didn’t have to end his life infirmed and in pain, but I just feel like he wasn’t finished. I know there was more he wanted to do. He was a man of many talents and he’s going to be sorely missed.