My family today is saying goodbye to my uncle Ned.

I saw him last just after labor day when I told him about my surgery, and he agreed with me that the surgery would be just "another bump in the road" for me. He was pleased that I had arranged for the operation at Johns Hopkins, where my family had been treated successfully for years. After my own father died when I was eight, Uncle Ned was the most important man to me along with my grandfather. He took my brother and me fishing just weeks after my father's death. He worked with his power tools to carve a black racer from balsa wood for a cub scout project. He arranged for my brother to drive his go-kart in the orchard packing house, and he made an appointment with an expert rifleman to teach my brother how to shoot his rifle. I have more to write about Uncle Ned, and I hope to make some time to do so. I loved him, and I will miss him.