Uncle Dick

Last week was my husband's Uncle Dick's funeral. He had broken his hip just before Thanksgiving and never really recovered from this. He was a man on the go and a broken hip plus other complications didn't spell "go". His daughter told him to "Fight, Dad." His answer was a simple, "NO!" He was ready to go as he missed his wife so much when she died 5 years ago.
At his funeral, 2 of his friends spoke of his gusto for life. His son spoke warmly of a dad who explained the workings of a refrigerator and car air-conditioning system to his brother and himself as teenagers. The joke is that if you asked Uncle Dick what time it was, he would tell you how a watch works. He had an ability to explain anything complicated so that even a 2 year-old could comprehend. One of his friends shared humorous stories of their outings on the water as Uncle Dick loved to "captain" the boats he sailed and motored. He was a great captain. Then it was my husband's turn to share his memories of this beloved uncle. The word joy is what my husband shared. Uncle Dick was a joy-filled man. He delighted in the love of his life, Marg, to whom he had been married for 54 years. He enjoyed fixing things. His degree from Virginia Tech was in Electrical Engineering.
Everytime we would go visit Uncle Dick and Aunt Marg, he would teach me something new. I learned the secret to making scrumptious pancakes. I learned what to look for in a griddle pan.I learned what "muzak" is. I learned how to get a bang for your buck! I really needed Uncle Dick at his funeral because right after the funeral and before the reception, I ran into the bathroom. I wanted to go before the group of people got there. Anyway, I got locked into the stall. I twisted the lock every which way. I jiggled the door. I lifted up and pushed down. Nothing! My only recourse was to go under the door in my dress, which didn't have a full skirt. There was noone else in the bathroom of 3 stalls for me to call upon for help. Where was Uncle Dick when I needed him? He could have not only opened the door with whatever McGiver tool he had, but he could tell me how to fix the lock so that any other unsuspecting bathroom-goer wouldn't get stuck again. I shared this story with my husband and cousins and that produced a light-hearted moment. Yes, his degree was in electrical engineering, but he was an excellent teacher.
Generosity was his middle name. He was fun, lovable, intelligent and will be dearly missed.