My uncle Hub (real name Jeff) died Thursday. He had very progressed cancer, starting in the stomach and going out to the liver and bones. He was a gentle giant. He had euight brothers and sisers (sevel still living) and 21 neices and nephews. He loved the Red Sox, watching his neices and nephews in there many sports, Middlebury College hockey, and the volunteer fire department thay he and many of my family are a part of.Today we had his funeral. Here is an excerpt of a piece of father wrote about him:
"Hub was a man whose life revolved from being around his friends and family…Those who knew Jeff understood it was difficult at times for him to speak clearly; yet, it never was an obstacle of his ability to make new friends…His biggest family, besides the big one he came from, was the fire department…Jeff never wanted to be in the limelight. He was assigned to our Hose Reel Pumper which required you to locate this vehicle at a water source to fill tankers…. often times a mile or so from the scene of a major fire. Not much glamour in that, but Jeff did it without fail…
Hub was a faithful follower of his beloved Middlebury College Men’s Hockey team. Most game days he and brother Joel would make their way to the Kenyon Arena, taking their usual spot on the corner, and cheer on the Panthers
Hub spent all his years living at home, and his siblings are so thankful for the care and support he gave our Mom. I think Hub was Mom’s favorite, after-all, the nickname Hub was the same one her father, Hobart Newton was called. Hub was a good caregiver for Mom after Dad passed away in 1991. Slowly, as we watch our mother’s memory fade, we realized Hub was dealing with it almost on a daily basis. We remember the day when Mom made him a banana sandwich for work, or one Saturday night, when Jeff purchased a steak for the two of them, only to have Mom attempt to cook it in liquid dish soap. I know the home we all grew up in must have felt empty last July, when we moved Mom to a care facility. There’s no doubt Hub missed having Mom around and he was a frequent visitor to the care home to see her. These days, Mom struggles to remember our names, but she always seemed to remember to ask about Jeff. We’ve decided, that should she ask us about Hub, we’ll just tell her that he’s at deer camp with Dad and Eric.
Jeff’s life, for the most part, was his immediate family and the love he gave to his siblings and those 21 nieces and nephews. His brothers and sisters were stops along his daily journey through town to say hello, or when our kids were younger, “Uncle Hubby” as they called him, would stop to see them…We often noticed that when our children would be fussing, Hub could grab them up in his arms, and they sensed the gentleness of this man, and most times, would stop crying and settle down…I look back on the last days of Hub, and I’m thankful for a number of things. A few days before he died, his nephew Kevin, with his family visited “Uncle Hub” in the hospital. In spite of the pain in his back, when little Emma walked in, Hubby reached down with those big arms and hands and picked her up and gave her a big hug.
Some of us, when leaving a family function, will venture around the room, or the back yard and tell everybody that their leaving, a process I’m told by my wife, requires an extra 30 minutes for me. As for Hub, he would start to leave and Joel might ask; “Hubert, where ya going?” To which he answered “goin home!” No fanfare, no long good byes, it was time to go, no need to make a big production out of it. And so it was on Thursday, with his beloved Red Sox on the radio, up 1-0, a no-hitter in progress to boot, with his oldest sister who always watched out for him, his hockey partner Joel, and brothers Mark and Buzz holding his hand, he slowly faded away, no fanfare, no big production, it was time to go home for the final time, and Hub slowly slipped from our grasp to join up with Dad and our brother Eric.
As we lay Jeff to rest today, he will take a spot next to Dad, who’s headstone has engraved the White Cliffs of Dover with a B-17 flying overhead. Dad would remark to us that upon piloting his plane home after a bombing run during WWII, seeing those Cliffs meant you were safe and sound over England. And….above the plane is an inscription with two words: which say “Goin Home.” Jeff has indeed gone home, we will miss him, but most of all, we will remember this gentle giant of a man and his love of friends and family alike. "
Goodbye Uncle Hub, you might not have ever known all the lives you touched, but we sure did. You will be missed and remembered, and always loved.