Uncle Joe

Dear Mom,

I had something else in mind to write to you, but then unexpectedly, sort of, something else came up. Your brother, Joe died. Today was the burial. I wasn't able to make it to the wake, but arrived at the funeral parlor early this morning to pay my respects, go to mass, and the grave site.

While sitting in the funeral parlor, your two sisters, Edna and Electa sat in front of me. They are the only two siblings left from the nine of you. As I sat there wondering what it might be like if you were sitting there, Aunt Electa turned to Aunt Edna and said, "Well, you're 80 and I'm 90, who do you think will be next?"

It's hard to explain the kind of delivery Aunt Electa has that makes what she says even more adorable.

You had to be there.

She giggled.

It touched my heart to the core because of its innocence, honesty, and humor.

You know she has Alzheimer's?

I wanted to bawl like a baby, but held it together... just like all of your sisters have done, and the two left, still do.

Because your brother Joe served in the war, a seven gun salute, the folding of the flag, and the playing of Taps by a lone bugler didn't allow for a dry eye at the cemetery. Losing a loved one tugs at your heart, but there is something about the added military ceremony that pulls you... speechless.

Sending love to Aunt Electa and Aunt Edna, and especially to my cousins, Steve, Paula and Burt.