My Uncle Ed died last night. He was the youngest brother of my father, and his eight children and I and my eight siblings grew up as a very close extended family because my father made sure that we visited them often when I was young. After my father died and we moved farther away we lost touch with our cousins, but in many ways they were still a part of our lives.
I went up there just a little less than a month ago to help them bury their mother, Ed's wife Mary. He just didn't know how to live in this world without her. Now his children and grand children will have to gather again to mourn. I wish them peace, and healing and comfort in this time of grieving and loss.