Uncle Norm was working at Griffin Hospital, second shift, back in January 1978, when my father was nearing his end. Dad had slipped into a coma, but we knew time was short and we came to see him. When we arrived, Uncle Norm was standing at the door, with his mop and pail, watching my father, with tears streaming down his face. Just then, the phone rang, and my father opened his eyes reflexively, still in a coma. "Well, answer it," Uncle Norm said to Dad, and we all laughed. The last time I spent any time with him was at his house after my grandfather's memorial service in January 1980. As is typical with men in this family, we both dozed off on the couch watching TV. He was a good man, he worked hard, he was good to his family and others, and everyone loved him, and you can't ask for much more of life.