Well, butter my biscuit and call me Sally...

Uncle R. was only 64. That's just astounding. That's so young! The Huz is in Chicago for the wake and funeral. I was going to go, we were trying to figure out how to juggle the kiddos, maybe take The Bear, since I can still carry him as a lap child, and fly back the same day, but then I found out it was an open casket. *gulp*

I'm not skeeved out by death, I believe in a wonderful afterlife, and that death is merely the beginning of the rest of our eternity, but I'm not particularly interested in sitting in the same room with Uncle R's body for 6 hours for a wake. Uh-uh. That clinched it for me. So, The Huz is there, we're here and missing him, and hoping that the family is able to grieve and find peace in the joy of Uncle R's life.