One of My Favorite Men

After my sister-in-law died 14 years ago, my oldest son and I had a man-to-man conversation.

“Paul, your aunt died today,” I told him. At 5 years old, this was his first experience with death.
“Are you sad?” he asked.

“Yes,” I told him. “I’m very sad. She was the person who introduced me to your Mom.”

“Oh,” he said. And he thought awhile, peering out the window from where he sat at the kitchen table.

“You know, Dad,” he said. “The doctors all did their best.”

“Yes, Paul.” I said. “I’m sure they did.”

Then he added: “And you know that she will live forever in your heart.”

“Yes, Paul,” I said. “I believe she will.”

On that day, when I was hurting the most, he did more than anyone to put into perspective the loss of one of my favorite people.

Last week, we attended another funeral. It was for my wife’s uncle, Kenneth Nagel, who was 80. He was a good man, and we often enjoyed his company during family get-togethers.

Spirited is the word I would use to describe Ken. Whether he was talking about politics, economics, education or anything else, he would always say exactly what he had on his mind. There was no equivocation. He would state his case and then lean forward for emphasis.

He was fun, too. Though his repertoire of jokes was limited, he always had one to tell and was often up to some sort of mischief. In fact, the day before he died, he invited one of the nurses at the hospital to accompany him to Las Vegas. “I have $4 in my billfold,” he said.

Which, of course, caused all of us, including his wife, Rachel, to chuckle.

Ken and Rachel have lived in the area for years. They both retired as teachers and, like most folks, found that Stayton and Lyons fit their lifestyles well. They had lived on McCulley Mountain before moving into Stayton a few years ago.

For the funeral, their daughters and their families were joined by the extended family that came from all around the West Coast. After the hurt, the sorrow and the tears, something beautiful happened. There emerged an image of a man who loved his family beyond words, who sacrificed greatly to provide them with music lessons and other experiences and to bring the family together during summer breaks.

And there emerged a mutual love as three generations of the Nagel family joined together to grieve, yes, but also to celebrate his life as a family.

To me, it was a truly remarkable time, as the grief gradually gave way to the happy chatter of kids and the rebuilding and strengthening of bridges.

I will miss Ken a lot. We all will.

But as we all grieved, I was also reminded of that conversation I had 14 years ago, when a little boy put it all into perspective for me.

I know that he will live forever, in our hearts.