A Year Ago Today...

A year ago today, Paul Carl Kirsch passed away as he had lived - gently, quietly - in his little home along Lake Erie on the outskirts of Cleveland. My great uncle Paul, proud World War II veteran, traveler, gentleman, avid reader, art and history aficionado, and lover of Christmas. After several chronic illnesses in the last few years, prostate cancer and spinal stenosis to name a couple, he died from respiratory failure while lying in a hospital bed in his former living room, surrounded by just some of the hundreds, most likely thousands, of books he had collected in his 88 years.

I wish I could say I got my love of learning and literature from him. I wish I could say that his genuine appreciation of art had translated into my small talent in design. But we were not blood relations, my mom and her twin sister having been adopted by his sister and brother-in-law.

I do know I can say he made Christmas more special whenever I had the chance to see him around the holidays. I know I want to develop his same keen interest in so many subjects, to become the fascinating and well-rounded individual he was. And I know the world needs more gentlemen of his caliber.

I miss Uncle Paul. I regret I did not make the time to see him more often. I regret I never finished the letter I started to write him because I know he would have loved it. I regret I never really let him know how much I admired him and enjoyed him. Thankfully, I know I will be reunited with him eventually, in whatever form heaven really is, and we will worship the God we both loved on this side.

So here, for the seaman he was when he served our country and for the lover of literature he remained until his death a year ago today...

Crossing the Bar
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;

For though from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar.
- Lord Alfred Tennyson