Reflections On A Funeral

I was in Washington D.C. earlier this week for the funeral of my uncle. Today, after a few days have passed, the grief has faded somewhat. He was, after all, 87 years old and in failing health. The end came as no surprise - it was, in many ways, a relief for him and his family. They are all at peace right now. But what sticks in my mind is the realization that he represents values and attitudes that are sadly vanishing. From the obituary:

He is survived by his beloved wife of 63 years...

How many people today remain married to the same person for 60+ years. Or even 50... or 40... or even bother marrying the father/mother of their children?

 ... along with four children, seven grandchildren, five great-grandchildren, and a large loving extended family.

He passed on his values to his kids and grandkids. One son was a police officer, the other a firefighter/search and rescue team member. One daughter works for a security agency (no, not the NSA) and the other is a successful business professional. Most of the grandkids are either recent college graduates or still enrolled, although one is a Captain in the U.S. Air Force (air intelligence officer who cruises around in the back of an AWACS).

He served in the U.S. Navy after graduation from High School. He worked on the Pennsylvania Railroad during his summer vacations from college and graduated in 1950 ... with a degree in Civil Engineering. He worked for the District of Columbia Government, Highways and Bridge Division from 1951 until his retirement in 1989.

He received numerous accommodations and awards during his career. He was a member of the Knights of Columbus, American Legion, and his college Alumni Association. He was active in his Church and with the Boy Scouts of America.

In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to The Wounded Warrior Project...

Military service. Steady, hard, dirty summer jobs. Thirty-eight years uninterrupted gainful employment. Community service. All of that brings one word to mind,

Duty.

Duty to his country. Duty to his family. Duty to his community. Duty to his church. The kind of dedication to duty that we rarely see any more. He did his duty willingly, even gladly.

He came from a generation that believed they had a duty to leave things better than they found them, a duty to ensure that succeeding generations were better off than they were, and a duty to shoulder the burdens necessary to achieve those objectives.

That generation is rapidly disappearing from today's stage. We are the better for their existence, and we are the poorer for their passing.

Rest In Peace, Uncle Gene. Your duty is done.

You will be missed.