Monday, April 7, 2014. Monday, June 23, 2014. Two separate days, seemingly unconnected. Both days I will remember until I die. Monday, April 7, 2014 James Bernard Parsons Junior died around 3 o’clock. Monday, June 23, 2014 Jeffrey Lynn Parsons died around 8 o’clock. One died in the afternoon, the other in the morning. To a stranger it is just that- death. To me, it is the loss of my grandfather and then, my uncle.

We knew Pap was sick. As a family, we watched him slowly die from congestive heart failure and complications from agent orange, a souvenir from serving in Vietnam. Christmases would be spent at his bedside, trying to bring holiday cheer. What sticks in my mind the most, is my grandfather’s spirit. He never once became frustrated. He fought through and stayed cheerful in front of us kids, he didn’t want us to worry or be frightened. The December of 2013, was hard. Pap got really sick, and went into Hershey Medical Center the first week of the month. There was little the doctors could do. Pap’s kidney was shutting down and his heart was failing him. I watched him, fighting. He wouldn’t give up. We knew the end was coming, but we didn’t focus on it. Instead, we focused on what could be done with the time we all had left together.

The day before Pap died, my dad stopped in on the way home from a 4-H training. He introduced my Pap to a fellow 4-H leader, and they both left for home. That evening, my grandparents went to Weis for groceries. Pap collapsed in the parking lot. He spent the night in the hospital. Gram stayed with him, it didn’t look good. The next day, my grandfather was taken off the ventilator that was keeping him alive, with family surrounding him. They say he fought the whole time. I wouldn’t know, I was in school.

Uncle Jeff is a similar story. We were at my grandparent’s helping my grandmother straighten up. We were all going to come up the next weekend and move the washer and dryer upstairs. My uncle was going to do the wiring. That next day, he was dead. He died suddenly of a heart attack.

Both of the men in my life that I have lost, made plans for tomorrow. Tomorrow never came. At each funeral I did what a fourteen year old should never have to do. I delivered their eulogies. By writing out their lives and sharing memories of us together, I have learned so much.

First off, cherish the moments you have together. It sounds cliche, but it is the truth. One of my favorite memories I have of Pap is when the two of us went squirrel hunting. I was in fourth grade, and that was one of the last times I have been hunting for squirrels. We didn’t see any squirrels or even hear any, but we sat on a log and got to be together. We were at peace and even split a Milky Way bar. Pap taught me in that moment, that time is best spent with someone you care about. He also taught me that hunting is always a little sweeter when you bring snacks. My point is further reiterated when Uncle Jeff and I went hunting in rifle season and we ate Tabasco Cheez-Its. Memories are there for us to look back on and smile. Memories were not made to look back and cry on.

Uncle Jeff has taught me to not just care, but to show you care about others. When my Uncle stayed with my family for his work, he mentioned that he appreciated how we showed our love for each other. No, we didn’t go around hugging and kissing, we did simple examples of affection. When our parents and Uncle each came home from work, us kids would ask how their day was. The simple act of caring about what happened at a job, and actually listening and caring about what our Uncle had to say, meant the world to him. I remember my Uncle saying he felt cared and loved. The simple act led to further advice and discussions. I remember my Uncle telling me long distance relationships never work.  I carry that advice with me when looking at prospective suitors. His advice showed that he cared about me. Many of our conversations were normal to me, I thought everyone talks like our family. My Uncle showed me that our conversations were special, since he did not have similar conversations at his home. My Uncle did simple acts that were new to our family. After Hurricane Sandy, he gave up storm overtime and lied to his boss about a family emergency. Instead, he stayed home worried about us kids being alone from school with our parents at work. He wanted to make sure we were taken care of in case of a power outage or more wind damage. That day is one to remember. There was few damage at our house, but hanging with my Uncle and learning that coke can be used to remove rust from tools, was educational.

The last lesson I learned from Uncle Jeff was life is short. The lesson was learned on Monday, June 23, 2014. Exact time- 6:24pm. The exact moment I learned that Jeff was dead. He died at the age of 42. He was just five years younger than my parents. We had made plans for the next weekend. We were going to move the washer and dryer in my grandmother’s house from the basement to the upstairs. Instead, that weekend was spent planning for his funeral and going to camp for the week. The free time I had at camp was spent writing his eulogy. I reflected often that life was short.

Then, I realized that life is short. Because life is short, I need to spend my time wisely, doing what I enjoy and making the most out of life. That does not mean I waste life by living recklessly. Instead, I should live life with the expectation of death at the end and realizing that the end may come before I am prepared. I will take chances, but not ones that are crazy dangerous. I will spend more time with what is important. What is important changes, but one will forever stay important- family.

Family is above all, the most important. I can still live far away from my family, but I should always care about them and show love for them. My grandfather felt that none of the gifts that he received for Christmas should be opened while in the hospital. At the time, I was hurt. I now realize my grandfather’s refusal was not to hurt his family, but to keep us from remembering where we were. He wanted to keep all of our spirits up, by making us believe Christmas would be celebrated at home. My grandfather made it out of the hospital in January, and he did celebrate Christmas at home. His actions were for his family, and he kept his spirits up to protect his family.

My uncle did the same. I learned he was in the hospital after a mild heart attack through a facebook message while he was waiting in the emergency room for his tests to come back. In that message, I asked how he was and he said could be better. I asked why, he said he was in the hospital. I continued to ask why until he answered me. He was trying to keep us from worrying. However, family is always going to worry. By downplaying emotions, he was protecting us.

Pap and Uncle Jeff have taught me the value of life. Both of their deaths were tragic in their own way. I have changed from the loss of both men. I have learned and gained wisdom. My only wish is that I could learn the value of life, while Uncle Jeff and Pap were living. A greater loss in life is not the people we lose, we will all meet in heaven someday. The greater loss in life is the lessons and wisdom we ignore until death has occurred, long after the lessons and wisdom were forgotten.