He was a Navy man that joined as a teenager in World War II. He served on the USS Intrepid aircraft carrier in the South Pacific.
He was a Purple Heart award winner. But to "win" a purple heart is not a win really, it means you have been wounded in action.
He never talked about the time in war except for those funny stories and tales of liberty in Hawaii or in the Philippines when he got a tattoo. Or tell about being at sea for 3 months with nothing but bread and ketchup to eat...and the bread was filled with weevils that they had to pick out.
But one time I was brave enough to ask if it was hard. Dumb question but I wondered if he wanted to talk all these decades later. He only made the comment that it was hard playing cards with your buddy one night and sewing him up the next. Sewing him up in canvas to be buried at sea after his buddy lost his life in battle...
My uncle Dick lost his battle at age 90 last week. He went the way he should have. Told his nurse that he didn't feel like going to the dining room for dinner, wanted something in his room. She brought him a dinner drink (the kind you drink when you're 90) and he patted her on the cheek and thanked her. Fell asleep and moved home to Heaven.
He was so wonderful. And so loved by so many.
There was a poem read at his funeral that is so powerful and says a lot about how his lived his life. He did an exceptional job...
The Dash
by Linda Ellis
I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend
At the funeral of a friend
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
From the beginning to the end
From the beginning to the end
He noted that first came her date of her birth
And spoke the following date with tears,
And spoke the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years
Was the dash between those years
For that dash represents all the time
That she spent alive on earth.
That she spent alive on earth.
And now only those who loved her
Know what that little line is worth.
Know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not how much we own;
The cars, the house, the cash,
The cars, the house, the cash,
What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.
And how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard.
Are there things you’d like to change?
Are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left,
That can still be rearranged.
That can still be rearranged.
If we could just slow down enough
To consider what’s true and real
To consider what’s true and real
And always try to understand
The way other people feel.
The way other people feel.
And be less quick to anger,
And show appreciation more
And show appreciation more
And love the people in our lives
Like we’ve never loved before.
Like we’ve never loved before.
If we treat each other with respect,
And more often wear a smile
And more often wear a smile
Remembering that this special dash
Might only last a little while.
Might only last a little while.
So, when your eulogy is being read
With your life’s actions to rehash
With your life’s actions to rehash
Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent your dash?
About how you spent your dash?
I can still hear his laughter and stories. He always had a story and always smiled and laughed. This man who had survived a war and so much more always laughed and smiled. And never, ever had a negative thing to say.
I think now of how much I want to emulate him. He was positive no matter what.
He had a whack job of an ex-wife. Five kids, not one of whom showed up to pay respects, sent flowers, or even a card (OK two are dead...but still.) Grandchildren and great grandchildren. Not one showed up or acknowledged his passing. He would have never said a bad thing about that...it makes me sick.
His second wife, who was married to him 39 years stood there until the end, but the most devoted of everyone I think was his step daughter and her two children, who were there every minute and for the last 39 years have been there with him to laugh and cry at life...when his own kids rarely cared enough to give a passing thought. True love was there. Those two grandkids who were there for him carried his ashes and flag to the gravesite. I was proud and heartbroken at the same time.
There was a line out the door of the wake of his work friends, many high school friends still alive, his golf buddies, his bowling buddies, his pals from their winter home in Arizona who were home in IL at that time. His coffee buddies from the donut shop. His friends from the cardiac rehab unit who said he was the one who always made the new people feel welcome and at ease by taking them under his wing. His funeral was packed the next day.
Everyone loved him, everyone loved his stories. Everyone loved his smile and laugh.
He loved his Chicago Cubs and Chicago Bears. I truly hoped the Cubbies might win the series this year and he'd see it before he died.
He loved his puppy Luna and lived for her visits to the nursing home in the last months.
I loved how much he loved my husband and how proud he was of him...like the hubs was his own son.
He loved golf and played until he could not do it any longer. He always lamented that he taught his wife to play and she made a hole in one and in all of his years he never did. He treasured the trips to major golf tournaments that my brother took him to.
He played basketball in high school and everyone knew who he was as a star on the team. He was a rock star athlete.
I only got to see him about once a year when I went home but now that I cannot see him, I look at pictures and that smile and can still hear the words he always said when I kissed him goodbye...
"Behave yourself."
I will Uncle Dick. And I will make sure that I stay positive and happy like you always did through some pretty lousy parts of life. I will laugh and love like you did. You were a huge blessing in my life and I'm blessed and grateful for the family I now have through you to hold to my heart.
So,
Fair winds and following seas to you. Rest in peace Uncle Dick, we have the watch.
