Saturday, June 29 was the funeral for my father's youngest brother, George.
The funeral was held in Terre Haute at Callahan Funeral Home, the same place where my grandmother's funeral was held in 1989.
My cousin, Mary Martin Davis, flew up from Atlanta. She's a year older than me and the daughter of my dad's second brother, Bob.
Me, Mary, Jenny, and Steve.
My Aunt Sissy (Dad's youngest sibling and only sister) had brought some photos and mementos of George.
Including this photo with a fun story behind it - read the typed text. That's my father's parents with George and Sissy.
I sent these flower, choosing yellow ones because they are Lisa's favorite color and I knew she would be taking them home.
A dance when my Uncle Bob was in college. His date cancelled at the last minute, so he brought Sissy as his date, the little girl in the front.
A very young George.
My grandfather Martin with his three sons. That's my dad on the left.
Uncle George loved to play tennis and was a lifelong player.
George and Sissy at Uncle Bob and Aunt Pat's wedding.
Arriving at the cemetery.
Leslie, Lisa, Craig, Jenny, Ned, and Sissy.
My grandparents' headstone.
Looking up the hill at the Martin plots.
After the graveside services, we went to a BBQ place in Terre Haute that had been an old dance hall for the four local high schools.
Each of the four walls was dedicated to memorabilia from those schools. George and Sissy went to Wiley High School.
Me with my cousin, Liz, Ned and Sissy's youngest daughter.
Steve, Leslie, and Jenny.
Jenny, Craig (who did a terrific job officiating the funeral), and Lisa.
Lisa and Robert, Sissy's only son.
Mary and Sissy with Jan, Sissy's best friend from Indianapolis, in the background. (Two of George and Sissy's classmates also came to the visitation.)
Lisa and Liz.
A cousins' photo!
Me, Sissy, Mary.
Liz, Robert, Ned, Lisa, Sissy, Jenny, Steve, Mary, Leslie, me, Craig.
All of us at the BBQ place plus Jan in the lower right.
I had a special gift for Sissy - some family mementos.
Sissy and me. She's my favorite relative from both my parents' families.
There is a real family resemblance!
Funerals can be sad occasions, but there is joy as well. I was not close to George, and had not seen him since my grandmother's funeral in 1989, but I had more contact when I was little and memories from that. Being there at his funeral was important to me. But mostly, I wanted to be there to support Sissy, who had shouldered his care for the past couple of years and was losing the last member of her childhood family.
Rest in peace, Uncle George.
