Something Beautiful

It’s a beautiful day to celebrate others. And to remember those who have died, long ago or recently.                                                                                                                                                                                

I learned over the weekend that my Uncle Hall died. He was 92, in failing health and couldn't remember people he once loved. But he was still Uncle Hal.

Actually, Hal was my wife’s Uncle by marriage. He was the spouse of my father-in-law’s sister, Anne. Anne died a few years ago at 91 years of age. She had Alzheimer’s, was in assisted living and died in a place that could care for her, keep her safe, and keep others safe from behaviors she was no longer in control of.

Hal was able to live out his life at his long-time home. A care giver lived with him. Family in the region visited often. But his family was far flung. He was in the DC area of Virginia, Falls Church. Many of his family are here in Illinois and New York.

Hal died abused. Not physically abused, but his care giver robbed him of an estimated $60,000, perhaps more. Although she controlled his health life, she also controlled his perception of family relationships. Under his influence Uncle Hal evidently turned against his family. The family had no idea until near the end when the care giver was fired and the financial records were examined. By that time, however, the damage was done. Loved ones were spurned and hurt.

As bad as that is we must remember the beautiful person Hal was most of his life. When he was in control of it. A career Army man, Hal served in the Pacific Theater during World War II and in Korea. He was a full bird colonel when he retired. He continued to live near brass headquarters in Washington, DC and Virginia. He worked for long term contractors to the military in retirement, retraining himself in the ways of corporate life.

He and Anne raised a beautiful son who succumbed to mental illness just before graduating from the University of Virginia. Family helped Anne and Hal through the muddled horror of the death of their son. It took years and yet we know the pain never went away. What could have been forever lingered. Silent moments caught them unawares in their reveries of Harold, Jr.

Yet, they survived. And grew a loving relationship with remaining family. Hal was very bright. A master of the pun. Great fun to be with. And yet he had a grandfatherly perspective, didn't get excited about things he didn't agree with, but was always willing to discuss and learn other points of view. He was a superb companion.

Over the years Ann and I became like daughter and son to both Hal and Anne. They were a fun couple to know yet we were separated by 20+ plus years in age, and half a continent of space.

All the sadder to learn of Hal’s death and circumstances surrounding it. And that he had renounced those he had loved. All because of a selfish, greedy care giver. An undocumented immigrant who flew to unknown places probably never to be found or prosecuted for her crimes against the elderly. How many others has she bilked? Over how many years?

More than money, though, how many relationships and loving memories has she destroyed? Well, not memories. Those are ours. We recall them because those paint the picture of the persons we loved when they were whole.

I will always count Hal as my Uncle Hal. He was a very special person. To me and my family. He will be missed. But we shall remember him as whole and vibrant.

Thanks for your service to the nation, Uncle Hal. And thanks for being a loving and attentive uncle to my kids!

June 4, 2014