The passing of my uincle Frank

Tonight my dad called to tell me that my uncle Frank had died yesterday night. He was 98. A remarkable age to attain. And he was the twin brother of my grandfather, Fred, who died from injuries suffered in a cotton mill accident in 1956. Fred's arm was wrenched out of his socket as he threw loops of twine over his shoulder in the room with the looms, and he died several days later, never regaining consciousness, at Crawford Long in Atlanta. That's how I remember uncle Frank telling me the story several years ago. In January when I last visited him, and hospice care had just begun, he'd forgotten how his brother had died.
Every time I'd visited Frank in the last 7 years he'd greet me with my dad's name, Jerry. It would take awhile before he'd realize that I was Jerry's son and that I was named for his brother. He would frequently remark that "life's a teacher." I suppose he meant that change is unavoidable and also not too bad. The last day I saw him, again he called me Jerry. He was sitting on his room mate's bed in the nursing home, looking out the window. We talked about the squirrels and birds for an hour. He was childlike.
When he and my grandfather were born in Arkansas, in 1909, the midwife had put him in the warming part of a wood stove to keep him alive. He loved to recount that. He told me about getting lost in the woods while opossum hunting and following the north star home. He told me about his father's running off with another woman: how his mother, Victoria, had gathered the children together and taken the train from Arkansas back to Georgia. Months later my great grandfather returned as well and she took him back.
Of those children, only his little sister, Essie, my aunt Mae, now 90 something herself, remains. The Funeral is Sunday, tomorrow, at 3 pm in Covington. I wonder if she'll be there.
I would love to be there but I'm 367 miles away.

The two water colors here are kitchen scenes. I had intended to write about cooking and just as I started, dad called with the news of Frank's passing.