My Uncle Warren passed away last night. He is the last surviving member of my father's immediate family. He was the youngest of four children that included my father and his two sisters. Over the years, Uncle Warren lived the closest (just a few hours away in Ventnor near Atlantic City) and we spent more time together than with any other member of the family. He had an infectious laugh and a sensitive disposition. He loved me, kissed me every time I saw him, and encouraged me. When I went to the hospital to see him on Thursday he cried when he saw me and cried when I left. I loved my Uncle Warren.
On Tuesday we will gather for his funeral. His pastor is out of the country and won't be back for several weeks (he's in Iceland) so I will be conducting my Uncle's funeral. Just two months ago, when we started our Sabbatical, Joanie's Uncle Ray died suddenly and we attended the funeral. It certainly has been providential for us to be near our families while they have gone through the loss of a loved one.
I am again struck by the fragileness of life. I left the hospital knowing it would probably be the last time I ever saw Uncle Warren. But I had no idea he would be dead in less than 2 days. He lived 83 years - a good, long life. But death always comes too early. So, maybe we should live our days with joy and fullness. They are, as the Psalmist says, but a few short years and then they are gone.
God bless you, Uncle Warren. Rest in peace and enjoy your reward. Amen.
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