Thursday, January 14, 2010
Less than two months ago, we said goodbye to my grandfather. As the funeral procession passed the NJ Transit Bus Depot, there was a bus parked in his honor. It's destination read "Out of Service, No Passengers." At his funeral, he was saluted by an Honor Guard. Gunshots were fired. Marines stood by and presented an American Flag to my grandmother in his honor. He lived a long life. As we all should. He had seven children, six of whom were by his side at his death. His youngest son was not able to be there that night.
This week, his youngest son has flown to his side. As he should be. But not yet.
Somehow Uncle Mike managed to evade my camera on many an occasion, but his memory lives on strong in my mind. He enjoyed his parties and could always be counted on for entertainment at some point of the evening. Usually up to no good with my other uncles. He cooked, he fished, and so much more.
This past Christmas he amazed me with a side of himself I hadn't previously seen much of. He grabbed up my son intent on keeping him from the danger of my grandmother's steps. He cuddled with him in the kitchen and gently hand-fed him a brownie.