A Fond Farewell

About forty people gathered to wish farewell to my Uncle Dave - David George. It soon became apparent that funerals are for the living and not for the person being remembered. Everyone had their memories of Uncle Dave - as a parent, a brother, a co-worker, a fellow church member, an uncle, a grandfather, a friend. Everyone sat and listened to one of his church elders talk about Uncle Dave and his knowledge of him. I sat and thought of the Uncle Dave that I knew: warm and creative, a person who knew how to have fun and spread cheer.

Mostly, we would see Uncle Dave and Aunt Ruthie at family gathering around holidays. He would bring his piano and play Christmas tunes, delve into the competition of the moment (a prime example was the Easter Hat contest, in which he demanded a recount) and contribute his awesome creativity. The high point of every Christmas gift exchange was to see what Uncle Dave had made. Over the years, I can still remember the year he made a clock out of movie reel tins... and of course there was the guitar made out of a cigar box that cause a certain Persian feud that has lasted fifteen years.

Uncle Dave had a fantastic sense of humor. He was the master of the quiet pun, that he would insert to the running conversation of his wife, Ruth. He could also tell a tale that was both poignant and funny at the same time.

I see now that he and my own father were of similar ages, but Uncle Dave was spy, while my own Dad was solidly in motion. Uncle Dave had the ability to have the appearance of folded springy motion. As he walked, there was a slightly springy motion.

Uncle Dave had a depth of knowledge in areas that caught his interest. He had a love for ephemera, pianos, film, cameras, puzzles of all kinds, radios, electronics, and of course, printing presses. If you were showing him something, he would take it into his hands with a gentle, excitement. His mind was open and interested in new things as long as I knew him.

One of the interesting parts of the funeral was the photos of Uncle Dave as a young man. The pictures of him at Western State College revealed a good-looking man with a handsome smile. Together with Ruth's contrasting dark hair/eyes and light skin, their children were handsome and their grandchildren are beautiful women. Their five great-grandchildren (all boys) are handsome too, with the look of their grandparents evident in all of them.

So, are funerals a farewell? In this case, I suppose that it was meant to be, but when someone still lives vibrantly in your mind, how can they be gone? When you stumble across their newsletters and find a note on a post-it on your desk, there is that moment of unreality. And then you realize that they are as alive as you keep you them in your heart.