It was a loss to our family, but also to the world which was better for having Harold in it. My uncle was kind and funny and smart. He loved his family. He loved good grammar. He loved to read and play golf and take pictures of people (and pets) he cared about. I don't know anyone who ever met Harold who didn't like him.
I'm glad my children and I were able to make it down to Florida in time for the funeral. I'm even gladder we were able to get there six months ago and spend some time with Harold while he was still with us, because visiting the dead is about respect, but visiting the living is about love.
I've encountered differing opinions on whether or not children should attend funerals. I think as with nearly everything it depends on the circumstances and the people involved. In our case, I don't want to shield my children from the realities of loss because it's part of learning to appreciate what we have. When we attended my grandmother's memorial a few years ago the younger kids played together in a separate room, but my oldest (who was nearly 9) chose to sit with me and cry along with the adults. She remembers it, and knows it was meaningful.
When the news came that my uncle's health was failing rapidly we discussed as a family what we should plan to do. My father (Harold's younger brother) is not capable of that kind of travel at this time, and my brothers were geographically scattered too far to even have a chance of getting to a funeral on short notice, so we felt we needed to be there to represent our family. The original thought was that I would fly out with maybe one child, and Ian would stay home with the dog and the remaining kids. That seemed the most workable thing to do. Of course in the spirit of, "The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men, / Gang aft agley," we got the call of Harold's passing when Ian was out of state with the Army, and I scrambled off with all the kids in tow.
