Remembering Uncle Gary
It's been more than three months now since Uncle Gary left this earth. He knew he might not survive the surgery to repair his aortic aneurysm. After living with the aneurysm for years, and enduring several other procedures along the way, his last surgery was his surgeon's heroic, final effort to fix something that was finally beyond repair.
Gary would be the first to tell you that he had lived a satisfying life. Except for one rather brief marriage, he lived alone in the house he had bought in North Platte. He had a large, loyal group of friends there, where he had retired after working there as a dispatcher and, eventually, communications supervisor, for the Nebraska State Patrol.
I would characterize Gary as usually soft-spoken, diligent, determined, ethical, hard-working, and loyal to family and friends.
He loved sharing his garden space with his neighbor, and sharing his produce with his friends. After his sister, my Aunt Ellen, was no longer around to make jelly, he learned to make it himself. He picked wild plums, grapes, elderberries, and anything else he could find, to make jelly and the wine that he shared with his friends, family, and co-workers.
Gary loved being outdoors. He didn't consider it a chore to ride his four-wheeler around the family-owned ranch, up on the Pine Ridge near Gordon, to spray noxious weeds. He didn't mind being at the ranch by himself, in the spring and summer; in fact, I think he treasured those times alone, when he could enjoy God's beautiful creation without interruption.
Gary had been a fisherman and hunter for most of his life. He was an excellent marksman who always ate the game he harvested, or gave it away to someone he knew would appreciate it. The time he spent at the ranch, hunting with family, was one of the highlights of each year.
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| Pictures by Laura Vawser Gilbert. |
My first memory of Gary is very clear. Gary, who was about fourteen, was living at our house that summer, in the bedroom right next to mine, so he could haul water for Mom, who was expecting my baby brother's birth that August. We were all waiting anxiously until the septic tank and indoor plumbing were finally installed, later that summer.
I was two years old then, looking down from my open, upstairs, bedroom window at Gary, who was helping put up the houseyard fence that was designed to keep me safely contained. Gary stood and talked to me for a few minutes, finally suggesting that he thought I was supposed to be taking a nap. So, that's what I did.
I remember fidgeting my way through Gary's graduation, in Bloomfield's hot high school auditorium. I remember taking a ride around town in his "new" car. It was exciting to see him in uniform after he enlisted in the Air Force. I was thrilled to see the presents he brought back for everyone from such exotic places as Spain and Japan--china for Mom and Grandma, and a diamond necklace for me.
It wasn't until the time of Gary's funeral that I realized he was actually a Vietnam veteran. No one had ever mentioned it, and he had never spoken about it.
Gary's one request, which he repeated often, was that he wanted to be buried at Fort McPherson National Cemetery, outside of North Platte. It was a bitter, blustery day when we carried out his wish, but the ceremony there was impressive, just the same. His headstone, like so many others all lined up in symetrical rows, was set in record time.
You can read Gary's obituary here.
Except when he was overseas, and later, when Bill and I lived in Michigan, our family has spent practically every Christmas with Gary. This past Christmas, he thought ahead, purchasing boxes of cheese for his nieces and nephew, as usual, and leaving them for us in Mom and Dad's basement refrigerator. I picked up my last box of cheese earlier this month.
I will miss Gary's thoughtfulness, and his yearly gift of cheese, and I will certainly miss seeing him at the ranch and at Christmas time, but I will always remember the good times we shared together as family.
The Lord is my shepherd;
I shall not want.
He makes me to lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside the still waters.
He restores my soul;
He leads me in the paths of righteousness
For His name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
For You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil;
My cup runs over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
All the days of my life;
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord
Forever.
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