In the course of the last seven weeks Dom and I have lost three of our great-uncles. Though I recall only recent visits with the two uncles on my side of the family, I was accustomed to seeing Dom’s great-uncle at Mass every Saturday. All three men were spry, witty and energetic for their ages. I loved looking through their photos and hearing them reminisce with tales from their youth – or, at the very least, tales predating my own youth. It is not lost on me that we were blessed to have known these uncles for so long, to have been a part of their lives and to have had them as a part of ours. They loved and treasured their families and are greatly missed by those of us who were fortunate enough to enjoy their company on this earth.
Lawrence Louis Ebarb
September 27, 1923 – February 19, 2014
Roy Emanuel Harris
September 16, 1927 – March 25, 2014
Keith Eldon Wilson
June 16, 1926 – March 28, 2014
Though I believe each of these dear men are now happily reunited with loved ones who have gone before us, my heart breaks for our family members who feel their loss so deeply: my grandmother and our great-aunts who have said goodbye to their brothers and husband, our second-cousins who will miss their dads, and also for our first-line aunts and uncles as well as our parents – Dom’s mom and my dad – who can recall these towering personalities from their own childhoods. I pray the Lord will hold them close through their sorrow and bestow unending peace upon them.
Times of loss bring the words of Tolkien to me with immense comfort: “End? No, the journey doesn’t end here. Death is just another path. One that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass. Then you see it!… White shores, and beyond. A far green country, under a swift sunrise.”
Hail and Farewell, sweet and gentle men. May you rest eternally in peace.