Dovetailing in morose coincidence with my Friday lament is this notice my mom sent in the mail, which arrived today:

Edgar O. Beck, 81, of… New Holland, died peacefully surrounded by his family on Thursday, August 28, 2008.

There’s not much story to tell, because I don’t remember a lot of the particulars. Ed was the funeral director who we used after Dad died. I remember him coming over to the house in the days afterward, and he, Mom, me and probably Lincoln sitting around and talking about stuff at the dining room table. Telling stories, talking about the illness, whatever. I was pretty numb at that point so, as mentioned, I don’t recall much of those weeks immediately following his death.

I remember Ed having one of the most sonorous voices I’d ever heard, a fact which remains true to this day. He stayed in touch with Mom through Christmas cards and on the occasions he would see her at the store over the past 23 years. To read his obit, Ed was a lot of things to a lot of people, and much more than a funeral director. He was one of the Good Ones. Hats off to you, sir.

Ed passed on what would have been my dad’s 65th birthday. Pics and a brief write-up of his service appeared in the Lancaster Sunday News yesterday.