R.I.P.
17th October 2021.
Posted by his cousin Will on the 18th...
''One of the incredible blessings of my life has been and continues to be having cousins who were almost like siblings to me and my sisters. Some of my early-life friends recall that my cousins lived on one side of my Grandparents' home while my family lived on the other side. We often convened for dinner at Grandma's, played with one another with nearly no supervision, roaming through the woods and farm buildings as though time didn't exist, making up life an hour or day at a time, so free from worries.
My cousin, Ed, five years older, was always out ahead. He drove the go carts like a demon, learned to scuba dive in our pond, disappearing beneath the surface of the water for time periods which we, as farm kids, had never seen, and could play the guitar like a Beattle, etc. He would become an oceanographic engineer and an incredible metal artist, Dad to two wonderful young women, and husband to an amazing woman and artist in her own right. When you hear a man who openly shares how much he adores his wife and children, which he did many times, you know they have a very special thing. And that's the stuff that can't really ever get taken away. But on days like today, you can't help but feel shaky about that because you just don't want to lose anything so cherished.
We lost Ed today, at 66 from prostate cancer. He used this terrible, unwanted experience as he approached his passing in a truly graceful and generous way, continuing to complete creative projects, to share music he had written, sung and recorded, and taking time to create space with many of us that just naturally gave us a chance to laugh, muse about life and politics and to say important and kind things to one another that ordinary life doesn't always afford up. I appreciate every time I have the opportunity to learn this and boy have I had those opportunities.
As crushed as everyone is, I have no doubt that his passing will not result in any serious instability for anyone who enjoyed and relied upon him. The strength he offered are largely already baked into who his loved ones are. That's not to minimize their tremendous heart ache, but those gifts do not disappear when people pass, just as I've been reflecting on about my Grandmother.
So, another rich set of lessons drawn from unwanted, very challenging life experiences.... Those of us who may know in advance that our time on earth is limited have amazing opportunities in how to connect with people in our lives, to be intentional about what we do and leave behind. He did that and he did it beautifully. Just two days ago I told him that I hope he was deeply gratified by how he used this strange and unwanted opportunity. It was absolutely lovely and he served as an example in yet another way. I share that because some of us will have that opportunity also. For those of us who may not have such an advanced warning, it behooves us to find those opportunities in our ordinary daily lives to be loving, generous and honest in ways that may surprise others but that will build a scaffolding of support and love long after we aren't physically present.
Shortly after my Grandmother died some 30 years ago, many of us in the family gathered at a condo in Delray Beach, FL. Ed was living nearby at that time as he was launching his engineering career. He had identified some underwater areas where lobsters hung out and where he could catch them by hand. one evening he showed up with a prolific spread for a family lobster feast, beach style, which was absolutely unique for our midwest farm family. So, I'm reminded again to take time to make those moments as a part of ordinary life, to surprise our loved ones with our generosity and gratitude. That's the stuff that lasts and lasts.''
