My mother was one of eight. That was a blessing and a curse. Sadly, she had to witness all of their deaths before hers. The next to last to pass was Dave. My 82 year old mother and her 75 year old nephew, Irving wanted to attend the funeral. And, so did my sister. For some weird reason we flew from Kennedy Airport on LAN Chile Airlines. I think we caught it on a stop over from Santiago to Montreal. As I remember it was a beautiful plane with great food. I don’t remember much about my uncle’s funeral, but I do remember a follow up event. My mother wanted to visit the graves of her parents. My aunt’s nephew told us which cemetery to visit and approximately where the graves were located. It was a chilly and windy day. We drove into the cemetery and I volunteered to look for the headstones. I walked one aisle and the next. I walked another and the next. And, by the third aisle, I started walking backwards to avoid the cold wind. All of a sudden some pollen must have tickled my nose. My eyes closed and I blasted out a huge sneeze. I opened my eyes and I was standing in front of my Uncle Jack’s headstone (remember he was the funny uncle who flushed the toilet when he came to visit us). I was sure Jack was saying, “Hey, Schmuck, I’m right here.” I was standing in the middle of this Jewish cemetery laughing. And, then I walked back to the car where my mother and sister were waiting. I told them the story. We all had a hardy laugh. Jack would have loved to see this visceral response. I never did find my grandparent’s headstones. But, I’m guessing they too, would have had a great laugh.