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This has been a kinda hard weekend for me, and it's taken me until now to even put together into words what I need to say. My Uncle Steve passed away about a month ago, and we had his Internment and Celebration of Life just this past weekend.
I wasn't really that close to my Uncle, but he was always a great relative. He always had a nice thing to say, and lots of things to talk about. He always knew how to put a person at ease.
He was a selfless man. He always wanted to make sure that everyone was put before himself. Even the last time I saw him, he looked good - and he deliberately didn't want the meet to be marred by the knowledge of his illness. And he was happy, laughing, and had planned a trip to Cuba (which he and his children did manage to do) and you wouldn't have known there was anything wrong.
He didn't want anything too fancy or expensive. He was cremated and buried at the common Wesley plot where my grandfather and great-grandfather were buried. It was a very quiet, overcast day.
The Celebration of Life was actually really incredible... no speeches or anything were spoken, but a video-photo-collage was put together and was playing, many discussions were had, and an incredible outpouring of people came together to wish their condolences - so many that for a good hour, it was almost impossible to move from one end of the house to another.
Come to think of it, I guess our family has been lucky for the past 30 years. We haven't had any deaths since my grandfather passed away, and I was six or seven years old at the time. I don't have a good memory, but I was told that I was playing in the backyard, completely oblivious to what was going on. My two nephews are 3 and 5, and the 5-year-old only has a small semblance of what was happening.
My Uncle Steve was a wonderful person. Like I said before, he was always selfless. One of the memories I have is visiting his home near my highschool during lunch for a sandwich and a video game. He didn't ask anything from me, and always welcomed me into his home, even when I think he needed to be working.
I've felt rather numb to it all, admittedly. Again, with no deaths in the family for almost 30 years, I was at a loss of what to feel. It took the Internment to really realize things, and I feel like I still really haven't come to terms with it. I just needed to get it out because I feel like I need to say something.
My parents called it a Celebration of Life because he didn't want anyone to be sad, even in his passing. They wanted to remember all the good he brought into this world. And he always brought a smile wherever he went - both on his face, and also on anyone he met.
Steven Hay Wesley, gone but not forgotten.
I wasn't really that close to my Uncle, but he was always a great relative. He always had a nice thing to say, and lots of things to talk about. He always knew how to put a person at ease.
He was a selfless man. He always wanted to make sure that everyone was put before himself. Even the last time I saw him, he looked good - and he deliberately didn't want the meet to be marred by the knowledge of his illness. And he was happy, laughing, and had planned a trip to Cuba (which he and his children did manage to do) and you wouldn't have known there was anything wrong.
He didn't want anything too fancy or expensive. He was cremated and buried at the common Wesley plot where my grandfather and great-grandfather were buried. It was a very quiet, overcast day.
The Celebration of Life was actually really incredible... no speeches or anything were spoken, but a video-photo-collage was put together and was playing, many discussions were had, and an incredible outpouring of people came together to wish their condolences - so many that for a good hour, it was almost impossible to move from one end of the house to another.
Come to think of it, I guess our family has been lucky for the past 30 years. We haven't had any deaths since my grandfather passed away, and I was six or seven years old at the time. I don't have a good memory, but I was told that I was playing in the backyard, completely oblivious to what was going on. My two nephews are 3 and 5, and the 5-year-old only has a small semblance of what was happening.
My Uncle Steve was a wonderful person. Like I said before, he was always selfless. One of the memories I have is visiting his home near my highschool during lunch for a sandwich and a video game. He didn't ask anything from me, and always welcomed me into his home, even when I think he needed to be working.
I've felt rather numb to it all, admittedly. Again, with no deaths in the family for almost 30 years, I was at a loss of what to feel. It took the Internment to really realize things, and I feel like I still really haven't come to terms with it. I just needed to get it out because I feel like I need to say something.
My parents called it a Celebration of Life because he didn't want anyone to be sad, even in his passing. They wanted to remember all the good he brought into this world. And he always brought a smile wherever he went - both on his face, and also on anyone he met.
Steven Hay Wesley, gone but not forgotten.
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D.F.
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