Sadness

My great-uncle Bob passed away last Sunday. It was so long ago since I'd seen him, something like 15 years. I didn't spend much time with him, but he would sometimes call my mom and start chatting with me -- I can hear his voice, in the sweet Minnesota accent: "Hey, Lulu, it's yer uncle Bob." We couldn't go to the funeral because last-minute airfare was a fortune, and we didn't qualify for a "grievance discount" because we're not immediate family. My mom's cousin Fran; Bob's daughter, sent us the eulogy. It was really nice and spoke about what a kind, friendly man he was, and this was the last paragraph:

After a two-week decline in the hospital, he yearned to be reunited to his beloved wife. Last Saturday he returned to the Veteran’s Home for one last time—happily residing with Betty once again. The next day during the late morning while sleeping in his bed, he simply stopped breathing. He passed away like we all pray we ourselves go—no long fight with cancer, no painful disease, no suffering—he simply stopped breathing and quietly slipped away. It was Father’s Day, and he returned to his Father in heaven.

I'm in tears now. I suppose partly because he passed away in such a gentle way, the way we all want to. I'm not a religious person by any means, but I hope Bob is in a special place now.