I'm going to be more depressing.
My uncle, my dad's oldest brother, broke his back many many years ago. Twice. Due to these injuries he had many many surgeries, most of which to remove scar tissue that built up and put pressure on his spinal cord. Yeah, ow. During one of these surgeries my uncle contracted Hepatitis C, for which there is no cure, and spent a long long time living with it well managed.
As my uncle got older he got more and more weak, and his hepatitis was able to overcome his immune system. He was sick more often, and hospitalized for pneumonia more often. As time went on he spent more and more time with pneumonia and more and more time in the hospital.
In October we got the tough news that my uncle didn't have much time left. Months, maybe, the doctors told us. Timmy and my aunt decided after one hospitalization that the next time was the last time, and made the choice to not pursue any further treatment. Not long after he got sick again, went to the hospital, was transferred to hospice per his wishes, and the day after Thanksgiving he lost his fight.
My uncle was never one for sadness or for pity. He lived a life full of pain but never complained, never let it interfere with him living his life. His wishes after his death was cremation, which we honored, and a party.
Yes. A party.
We waited until after the holidays, but last weekend many family members and friends made the trip to Rio Rancho, NM for a weekend-long fiesta in his honor. We laughed, cried, hugged, ate, drank (a LOT), danced, sang, and paid our best tribute to my Uncle Tim. I think we did a pretty good job.
William "Tim" Edmund Cozens, Jr
11/4/53 - 11/27/09
"That in death if not life they'll have rest while they sleep
Navigator, navigator, rise up and be strong"
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