Sunday afternoon we received a call that my Uncle Ron would die that day. His final diagnosis included extremely advanced liver cancer, lung cancer and esophageal cancer. Concerning the rest, either his family thought that was plenty to share with us, or the possibility of the pain associated with continued examinations made them unwarranted. As for his prognosis, if you know anything about end-of-life care, you know the sorts of things that lead a physician to tell you that the patient will die that day. If you don’t know, it’s best left as I would describe it – unimaginable. Nevertheless, Uncle Ron lingered on until Monday night.

Evidently, the week before he died he felt relatively well and was in good enough shape to attend the funeral of a friend and enjoy the company of his family the day before he entered the hospital. That night, before his hospital admission in the morning, he spoke for the very last time. “I Love You,” he said to my Aunt Joan.
A. Ronald Henderson
May 7, 1934 – June 4, 2007

Uncle Ron was a professional photographer for many, many years. His obituary says:

Ron’s life passion and hobby was photography, and [he] had the unique pleasure of doing what he loved. As owner of Ashton Henderson Photography, he took great pleasure in capturing the beauty of nature and creating lasting memories with his portrait work.

And, I guess, in the true spirit of always being the photographer, there was no picture with his obituary (also online for the time being here) and I haven’t any with me.

But he took countless photographs all those years – a legacy of images. Here are a very, very few examples:
Mom & Dad, September 10, 1965

Above is my parents’ very favourite picture that Uncle Ron took on the day of their wedding, September 10, 1965. So they took the original and hung it on the wall (without glass). The resultant sun damage, stains and scratches are very pronounced. When Uncle Ron learned that we wanted to use enlargements of their wedding pictures for my Parents’ Fortieth Wedding Anniversary and that the best-loved image was damaged, he found the original negative and made a new print (from which I made a SCAN for them to hang). Unfortunately, I have yet to manage a good scan of this picture; I will try again:
Mom & Dad, September 10, 1965
Mom & Dad, Anniversary Picture
Mom & Dad, September 10, 1965

I cropped the black and white photo above from one of the portraits Uncle Ron took at Mom and Dad’s reception for their Anniversary invitation. He took a great assortment of coloured and black and white images on that occasion.

Uncle Ron also took all our family portraits. For some odd reason this is the only one I have on my computer at the moment:
My Family: Kate, Karen, David, Shirleen, Calvin, Charles & Janet
My Family, Circa 1979

Uncle Ron, naturally, cannot be held accountable for any wardrobe or coiffure choices. Nor can is he responsible for any vaguely cockeyed looks; it’s a small miracle to take a picture in which my eyes AND my father’s are open.

I will miss you, Uncle Ron. I look back fondly on the trips the families used to take – staying at The Homestead, going to Yellowstone or The Tetons or to Bozeman. I love the memory of that blue Sears jumpsuit you used to wear and the gallant protection you afforded us from that gander which landed you “in the drink.” When I see all the pictures you took, the weddings, funerals, the family gatherings – all the rites of passage it seems – I shall always think of you.

For quite a long time, when someone was dying or had died, a particular song has come to my mind – a lovely piece called “Mark’s Song” by Eastmountainsouth.

Here are the lyrics, especially for Glen, for Kari, for Grandma Wanda’s Charley, and for Uncle Ron:

 

may your soul be blessed
may your body rest
on the mountain where you were born
may your spirit soar
where there’s joy ever more
may you find your way in peace

and there’s no more harm
in your Savior’s arms
see you fly away in the sky
did you hear the call of angels one and all
may you find your way in peace

may you know you’re loved
may you shine above
on the mountain where you were born
may your spirit soar
there’s no pain anymore
may you find your way in peace

and there’s no more harm
in your Savior’s arms
see you fly away in the sky
did you hear the call of angels one and all

may you find your way in peace
may you find your way in peace
may you find your way in peace

May you find your way in peace, Uncle Ron. And may you find peace, Aunt Joan, Kevin and your family, Janell and your family, and my Grandma L., as well as those members of Uncle Ron’s family I do not know.