There was more than one mention of him being a “Renaissance man.”  He was that; skilled and educated in many things, as Webster defines it.  But that just scratches the surface of my friend Bruce.  He died almost a year ago, after a leukemia diagnosis, a bone marrow transplant, numerous rounds of chemo and countless other procedures. 

Yesterday, his family gathered with many other loving relatives and friends, to remember him with an etched gravestone and reflecting bench at his grave site.  The rabbi honored him with prayers and a personal tribute that summed up Bruce’s accomplishments as a man.  He was so smart and achieved a lot in life, but the best part of the remembering came when the group stood to  look down upon his resting place.  That’s when one story led to another and the Bruce we all knew and loved, came pouring out of our hearts. His mom remembered 64 years earlier, when he took 36 hours to be born!  His brothers had great reflections of their older sibling and his antics as a kid growing up.  His widow and two kids remembered a husband and a dad with such love and with such sadness; they miss him beyond words.

The day was perfect; hardly any humidity, blue skies and warm sunshine and a perfect breeze.  The Renaissance man had ordered up the kind of day that went with the perfect tribute to a life, shortened by cancer, but well-lived…and certainly well-remembered.

Rest in peace, my friend.

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