My Uncle Alan

I was just writing a long entry letting you all know what I have been up to this week, but the computer shut down and I lost it all. So, you will have to wait on pins and needles for the next time I can get to a computer to let you know what is happening with me. I do, however, want to write about one thing before I go.

I called my mom and sister today. They are in Texas with my grandma and my Aunt Dawn preparing for a memorial service. My Uncle Alan died just before Christmas. He was such a wonderful person and a truly good man. He loved my aunt so much, I only hope that my future husband will love me the same way he loved her.

Our family flew out to Texas last May before I left for India, and Leah and I had the opportunity to spend alot of time with him while my mom was busy with her sister. He found plenty of things to chat with us about between our trip to six flags, the stops at Sonic for drinks, or over the puzzles that we did on the dining room table. Both he and my aunt have helped me so much with school and life, and never hesistated to tell me that any need I may have should be voiced to them, even if all it resulted in was two more prayer partners. They were like a second set of parents to me, and we loved them together as much as we loved them equally.

My mom sent me a draft of the eulogy she will be presenting, and I wanted to post a copy so that you all can see what a good man he was, and how much he will be missed by everyone who knew him.

"My name is Laurie Jorgensen, and I am Dawn's sister and the mother of Alan's nieces, Leslie and Leah. He was so much more to me than my sister's husband.
He was my friend.

After the gift of knowing Alan for thirty years, I can say he was perhaps the most decent person I have ever met...in some ways very old fashioned in terms of his manners, yet unconventional and wildly fun in others. He was not a perfect man, nor superhuman. But we don't have to exaggerate who he was to honor him here today.

Alan was a 6'foot, 4 mass of humility. Generous of spirit, kind-hearted, and patient.

For Alan, it was never too early in the morning to get up to take
pictures of the sunrise, changing autumn leaves, and other details of nature he saw. He then delighted all of us by emailing us the pictures or making them into postcards.

I often saw him take his coffee into the backyard early in the morning just to feel the sun on his face while he drank it.

Alan loved movies, particularly animated ones, humor (the quirkier the better), garage sales (yard sales or tag sales they called them in Ohio), and antique bookstores.

He also loved hot air balloons and the image of their bright colors in the sky. Something about the abandon of floating high above everything intrigued him.

He was also enthusiastic about Starbucks, all kinds of chili, Mexican food and Fresca.

Alan thought one of the greatest declines of America was that people wouldn't return their shopping carts to the store. (It was what it represented!)

Alan was always interested. Whether it was the book he was reading, the person he was speaking to, or the places he found himself, he was interested. For a period of time he traveled for business, and in almost every city he would visit the public library. He measured a city by the value they placed on their library.

As a young man, Alan spent numerous summers with Teen Mission, Intl. on a crisis line in Florida, 2 trips through the National Parks, and on their Travel teams, which is where he met Dawn. Eventually, they ended up in a singing group called "The Care Package" whose tour schedule stretched from Turkey Creek, Ohio to Scotland. The greatest "care package" Dawn and Alan received was each other, although Teen Missions brought life long friendships for both of them.

Alan was an extremely hard worker; he wasn't afraid to take on
difficult projects. He was a stable, loyal person who worked for the same company for 26 years, literally working his way up from sweeping floors to management. He took a week's vacation to move my family in 2002, and had the audacity to proclaim it a "fun" vacation.

Better than anyone I've known, Alan was always able to wring all the joy and pleasure out of each individual experience. He wasn't afraid to love the moment he was in. Last May he went to Six Flags with my two daughters. They left first thing in the morning, and Dawn and I called them late in the afternoon. I was worried they were wearing Alan out, but he told Dawn, "They're open til 10-why would we come home?"

Alan loved Dawn.
They were married young, but time and life only strengthened Alan's commitment to her. As her sister and someone who loved her, it was a joy to watch the symmetry they had as a couple. Sometimes they seemed to almost share the same thought, so in sync was their mindset. There were times of conflict and heartbreaking sorrow. Yet, they clung together as best they knew how, and Alan never faltered in his commitment.

My daughter was on Alan's computer at home once, and saw a folder
called "My Beloved". She asked what it was, and he told her to open it. It was a collage of pictures of Dawn through the years they had been together; Dawn discovered after his death that the welcome message on his cellphone said "Dawn is my one and only". He didn't tell her these things. These were for him. But it tells US that his love was not for show, it was for real. They say that character is about who you are when no one is watching, and this was Alan's character.

When asked in an internet journal group this past April where he would add 10 seconds anywhere in his life, he decided it would be at their wedding. He said:
"I remember watching my wife come down the aisle and thinking how
momentous and wonderful this time was but before I knew it, the ceremony was over. So I'd add 3 seconds to processional, she looked so beautiful, shy and happy, the processional is frozen in my mind, but a little more time would really set it.
Then 5 seconds need to be added to the kiss, we kissed but not nearly heartily enough for the road ahead."

Alan loved women. He loved his mom, his sisters, his nieces, his
daughter. He didn't think it was fair that women were expected to wear make-up to cover their flaws when that expectation didn't exist for men. He was puzzled and infuriated by men who were violent with women, not understanding that lack of respect. I confided in him as readily as I did my sister, and I know I wasn't alone.

Whether it was his carpool buddies, Roberta and Terri, being the only male in an all-female quilting group, or talking to Dawn's friends, women of all ages and walks of life felt comfortable around him.

In a recent email, Alan referred to his life as a "grand adventure". He talked about dying young, in his 60's or 70's-none of us ever thought we would lose him this soon. It makes me envious of those of you who worked with him, because you got to see him every day.

Alan, we are so happy we got to share your adventure here. And we know, that your adventure is not over.
Its really just begun. You are finally with Jesus face to face, healed from all pain, all questions answered. And we are all so happy for that. If we could see you now, we would never take you away from where you are.

I feel confident that when I arrive at heaven, Alan will be there to greet me. He will push his way to the front of the gates, wearing some kind of funny hat, and say "I'm so glad you're here. I can't wait to show you"

I love you, Alan; nothing will ever be the same. You were greatly loved and we are so grateful that we were privileged to be the ones who got to do it.