And One Remains in All Of The Above

My mom called on Monday and said my uncle had passed away.

On a scale of 1 to 10, we were probably at a 6 or 7, but his loss is still...sobering - and significant.

When I was younger I always thought Uncle John looked like Gary Moore, and I looked forward to the trips to Pennsylvania to see the grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.

A while back I realized just my mom and my uncle were the only remaining family members who were born in the 1920's, who had (some) memories of the Great Depression, World War II, and the years that followed...and now, it's just my mom (who's 88[!} as of last October).

Uncle John's passing gives me pause as to where I'm at. His life was part of a generation mostly gone by, where honesty, integrity, and concern for others was a huge part of who you were, and you made a lot of decisions based on those three qualities.

He was a good man, and I'll be calling my cousins in the next few days to express my condolences.

R.I.P., Uncle John...