My Dad’s immediate family was small.
His Mom and Dad.
Two sons.
My Dad and my Uncle.
My grandparents died many years ago.
Both relatively young.
My father died a year ago.
My Uncle died this week.
My Dad and my Uncle were children of the Depression.
My Uncle was in the army during World War II.
My Dad was in the Air Force during the Korean War.
As I get ready to drive to Pittsburgh where I grew up and where they lived their entire lives, I am aware that a generation, on that side of my family, is now gone. Memories remain, of course, but the flesh and blood connection to that time and that part of my family’s history is no more.

I search for words to describe what I am feeling.
I am sad for that which is fading away.
I am aware of the passing of time.
And, of my own mortality as I am now that oldest generation.
The place which was theirs for so many years.