_Viva_
06-22-2008, 10:40 PM
this is the email I just sent my brothers and sisters..............
Well, we made it down here OK. We went to the funeral home today, and saw Uncle
Joe. He really looks different. The first thing I noticed is that he didn't
have his trademark "handlebar" mustache. And he had a beard. I started to
feel bad, like nobody down here knew him, because if they did, maybe they'd have
kept up his mustache the way he liked it, and shaved his beard, because that
just wasn't the Uncle Joe I knew.
I felt bad thinking that his last years had been spent alone, with people who
OBVIOUSLY didn't know him, and I felt guilty about that, that I hadn't made the
time to come down here before now.
Then a lady came in. She worked at the nursing home where he had lived. She
told us of a different Uncle Joe. An Uncle Joe, that for the last few years,
had been the local Santa Claus, even despite his stroke. An Uncle Joe, that
despite his stroke, had become a favorite at the home, because even tho he
couldn't talk, was quite good at getting his point across about what he wanted.
"You don't TOUCH his beard!" she laughed. No one was allowed to cut that beard, she
explained, because he took such pride in being a good Santa. He was good
natured to the end, she said, and would jokingly shake his fist at them when
they didn't understand him right away. I came to see, that even though he was
not around our family, he'd made a new one here, and the staff there had taken
him in as one of their own. I felt better that his last years were not spent
with people who didn't know him, but people who had grown to know and care for
him.
Tomorrow (Monday) at 2 PM Central (3 PM EST), we will lay him to rest here, and
I ask that you all say a short prayer, and wish him well.
Uncle Joe, you will be missed.
Well, we made it down here OK. We went to the funeral home today, and saw Uncle
Joe. He really looks different. The first thing I noticed is that he didn't
have his trademark "handlebar" mustache. And he had a beard. I started to
feel bad, like nobody down here knew him, because if they did, maybe they'd have
kept up his mustache the way he liked it, and shaved his beard, because that
just wasn't the Uncle Joe I knew.
I felt bad thinking that his last years had been spent alone, with people who
OBVIOUSLY didn't know him, and I felt guilty about that, that I hadn't made the
time to come down here before now.
Then a lady came in. She worked at the nursing home where he had lived. She
told us of a different Uncle Joe. An Uncle Joe, that for the last few years,
had been the local Santa Claus, even despite his stroke. An Uncle Joe, that
despite his stroke, had become a favorite at the home, because even tho he
couldn't talk, was quite good at getting his point across about what he wanted.
"You don't TOUCH his beard!" she laughed. No one was allowed to cut that beard, she
explained, because he took such pride in being a good Santa. He was good
natured to the end, she said, and would jokingly shake his fist at them when
they didn't understand him right away. I came to see, that even though he was
not around our family, he'd made a new one here, and the staff there had taken
him in as one of their own. I felt better that his last years were not spent
with people who didn't know him, but people who had grown to know and care for
him.
Tomorrow (Monday) at 2 PM Central (3 PM EST), we will lay him to rest here, and
I ask that you all say a short prayer, and wish him well.
Uncle Joe, you will be missed.