Generations come, and generations go, but the earth lasts forever.

Youth, large, lusty, loving—Youth, full of grace, force, fascination!
Do you know that Old Age may come after you, with equal grace, force, fascination?
"Youth, Day, Old Age and Night." --Walt Whitman

The Buffalo News contained the news that my Uncle Richard passed away January 11th. Though I hadn't seen him in many years, nor had I heard from him in several years, I have a great deal of sadness about his passing.

He is the last member of my grandmother's generation. He was her youngest brother and my great uncle. My grandmother was part of a huge family. Besides her, Amelia, there were her sisters Anna and Georgina, as well as her brothers: John, Joseph, Andrew, Martin, George, and Richard. I believe there was also a child lost early. Richard was the baby, born almost at the same time my grandmother's children were.

My earliest memories of him are of a gentle, funny, and kind man. He was soft-spoken and loved his family. He lived in an old apartment on Chenango Street, for which he paid almost nothing to live for years even after the neighborhood changed. My Aunt Anna lived with him for a long time. She was briefly married to a much older man who died early in their marriage, and then she lived with Uncle Richard until she died very young, at least in terms of that family. Early memories are of a player piano in their house. Uncle Richard loved to take pictures. There are thousands of family pictures he took over the years. He loved gadgets, too. He had a record player that actually cut recordings. He made a record of me singing "Jingle Bell Rock." I wonder whatever happened to it. I always enjoyed going over to his apartment. My memory of it is a place where my mother and I were always welcome despite being ignored by so many other family members (at least that's my memory). He was at both of my weddings and always had some witty comment to make about life in general.

Even after I moved to Florida, he never forgot my birthday, either sending a birthday card or a St. Patrick's Day card (the day before my birthday) on which he wrote happy birthday. He called me "Paddy." He had a funny habit of sometimes sending cards to me or my mother (he never forgot her when she moved to Florida) that might be for one season but intended for the actual season. So, it wouldn't be unheard of to get a Christmas card for Easter. He would sometimes send pictures he had taken over the years if he thought it would stir memories or might be something we would find interesting. My favorite was when he sent my mother a picture of a vacant lot and said it was of her old elementary school (they had torn it down). Though spelling had never been his strong suit, it and his handwriting got more and more interesting as the years went on. My mother would ask me to try and translate or decipher the words. Because he had such a dry sense of humor (something I think runs in our family), it made it even more interesting to read because we never knew if he were kidding or not.

After my wedding, I only saw him two more times. He came down here with my Uncle Norman to visit my grandmother when she had been in the hospital. I remember his wondering why we didn't use our air conditioning when it was so hot (we couldn't afford it then). The next time I saw him was at my grandmother's funeral when we brought her back to Buffalo to be buried. I remember him sitting there, shaking his head, saying how sad life was. Aside from his cards and letters, he sometimes called my mother, too. I remember one year when my mother had retired and was feeling particularly sad as her birthday was nearing. Other than Uncle Richard and her sister, my Aunt Florence, she never heard from people up in Buffalo. I wrote him and asked if he could get relatives up there to write to her. He did, and they did. It boosted her spirits a lot. Several years ago, we got a Christmas card which was a picture of Uncle Richard, sitting in a chair with a Santa Clause hat on. He was in a nursing home. I never found out much about him after that as the people who were "taking care of" him didn't communicate with us. We got the same card the next year but nothing else. By that time, my mother was in the last stages of her Alzheimer's. I never forgot him but didn't really have a way to find out about him. Well, I probably did, but I guess I didn't really want to know anything else unhappy. My mother died, and then my wife was in the final stages of her 17 year struggle with cancer.

I had been telling a friend a story Uncle Richard had told me several times just the day before I saw the death notice online, so he was always on my mind. I hope his last years were happy. He was a wonderful, funny and kind man. I'm sure he's making my grandmother and mother laugh right now.

God bless you, Uncle Richard.



Uncle Richard about 1922









Uncle Richard on the left. My grandmother and Uncle Norman on the right. 1943






Uncle Richard about 1984 or so.