Not Finished

The best line I have heard recently when discussing someone who passed away at an old age is "maybe he wasn't finished."  My uncle was buried today at the age of 90.  I never thought of him as old.  He housed tobacco until five years ago.  Never spent a night in a hospital.  He walked straight was a stick and never complained of any ache or pain.  His voice of wisdom was sought by children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews.  He was one of nine and the second to pass away. To live together with brothers and sisters all these years is remarkable.  I once asked why he thought they are got along so well.  "We don't meddle in each other's business."  Meddle was he key word.  He was concerned about all of us, but did not meddle.  His funeral was a testimony to his life.  A long line of cars following this man to the end.  I am forever better because Russell Reece was my uncle and I will miss him.