(The photo here was taken when I was probably six or seven years old. That's me without a shirt for some reason on the left. The kids with me are my paternal cousins (starting on my immediate right) George, Ernie(kneeling), Frances, David (warning you off with his rifle), Donna and David (more interested in something he's holding than the camera). The photo was taken at Bolduc Lane, where I spent the first 18 yrs. of my life in the house partly built by my father's father, Isreal.

Earlier this week I was contacted by my cousin George. He wrote to tell me that his father, my paternal uncle George, had passed away earlier in the day. Sadly, I don't have a lot of contact, except for occasional e-mails and holiday cards with my father's side of the family. Growing up I spent a good part of my time with those relatives on my mother's side of the family, although I always had a good time when visiting with my paternal cousins, aunts & uncles.

After my father passed away, it always sent a bit of a chill down my spine when I saw Uncle George, since he looked so much like his younger brother. I remember the first time I ran into him unexpectedly at a local mall a year or two after my Dad died. I literally stopped in my tracks and I think my mouth fell open. For a brief moment I actually thought it was my father approaching me.

I can't begin to express my sympathy for the loss to his wife, children and grandchildren. My Uncle George was one of the nicest guys I ever met, and I'm not just saying that because he was my uncle. Although I rarely saw him in the past decade, he has a place in my heart and memories that will never fade.