My Uncle Bill died yesterday afternoon. He was 77 years old, and had been sliding into the pit of Alzheimer's for several years. Basically he forgot how to swallow, then his organs started to forget their jobs as well.
Death in a situation like that is a bitter mercy, for my uncle and his wife, their children and grandchildren, for all of us. And it's a weird feeling for me; there's been some estrangement between my mother's and her sister's families - due to just generational drift more than anything else. So I feel the loss and emptiness without any, so far, outward grief.
What I really want to say is that Uncle Bill was a good man. He was always kind and gentle. He laughed easily and often; every time I saw him he had a new collection of Aggie jokes, silly, not mean-spirited jokes.
Rest in peace, Uncle Bill. The world is a bit poorer today, but you've earned relief from this life's pains, sickness and sorrow. And when we meet again, I'll expect to hear the one about the football game between NMSU and Texas A&M. . . . ..