Sunday – 17 April 2022

Happy Easter / Resurrection Sunday to those who celebrated it today. Wishing you all the peace, joy, love and hope that the day promises.

Today was the first holiday without my uncle.

Which means that it was also the first holiday on which he did not call to wish us well. There was a little bit of melancholy attached to that fact. But, that did not mean that it was a bad day. Far from it, in fact…

I spoke with my parents and two of my siblings.

There was an Easter egg hunt for the ladies.

We had a lovely late lunch/early dinner with Sara’s side of the family.

And Mario Kart. Because, with the advent of the newly-released – or, at least, recently-released – tracks, there’s a renewed enjoyment of the game for Team DiVa.

For those who are interested, below is the tribute I wrote for my uncle’s memorial.

I meant to post this a week ago, when I got back from North Carolina, but Life, the Universe, and Everything (along with a heaping helping of “I just forgot”) conspired to keep me from doing so.

Good day and, on behalf of our family, thank you for your thoughts, your prayers, and most importantly: your time. We appreciate that you have come to share with us as we celebrate the life of Dr. Ronald Joseph Smith. 

Many tributes will tell you of the accolades of the recently departed. This is not that tribute. 

Instead, I am here to tell you about the MAN behind the DOCTOR. 

Ron Smith was my uncle. 
My Godfather. 

But, more than that: He was my friend. 

He had a magnetic personality and knew no strangers. And, if you knew him, you also know that his laughter filled rooms. 

He was a man of faith. He served many roles in and was beloved by the congregation and clergy in his home church. This was no more evident than when word of his passing reached a former priest – now a bishop – he said that he would clear his calendar to attend his memorial in New York…. coming from his current post in Africa. 

He believed in and strove for excellence. In his life. In his work. He also sought it in, from, and for the people around him. 

He loved the works of Beethoven, finding perfection in the structures of his music. 

He is the man the one who suggested – in the middle of the eye of a hurricane – that we go out to pick up a pizza. 

He’s a man who faced and embraced his fears. He called me after completing a drive down California’s Route 1. He was audibly shaken. He set aside any pretense of ego and asked me to meet him in California and help him drive across country. I don’t recall “why,” but I didn’t. And he also enjoyed never letting me live that down. 

He would call me and my family every couple of weeks, to make sure that we never lost touch with each other and that our family bonds remained strong. And, depending on when he called, he might also rub in a Steelers’ win over the Ravens. 

He may be gone from us, but I also know that he is still here.  

There is a saying that my Jewish friends use upon the passing of a loved one: “May his/her memory be a blessing.” 

There are many phrases in the Jewish tradition that address death in different manners, but they also focus only on the dead or only on the living. 

“May their memory be a blessing” speaks to both. It comforts the mourners and honors the memory of those they mourn. It is an active statement that people offer to one another, wishing something for the dead while at the same time acknowledging and maybe easing the pain of the living. It’s not a descriptor. It’s not a sharing of information. It is, itself, a kind of blessing. It’s a kind of injunction. It wishes not only that when the living think about those who have died, they do so with warmth and joy. It also offers the possibility that the lives of the dead serve as a blessing, marking the ways those lives have mattered and continue to matter in this world, even if they are no longer in it. 

In closing, I challenge you to embrace your fears. Laugh and bring laughter to others. Keep your faith. Strive for excellence. Keep and be strong in your faith. Love your family. 

May the memory of Ron Smith be a blessing.