Edwin H. Taylor Jr.

"Where's my cape?", he said sternly.
Heroes are never born as heroes. Born into simple circumstances, they move throughout their lives as though they are behind a secret identity. All the while they amass their strength and knowledge through trial and error. We find our heroes in the reflections of time after a long journey. We watch them climb and battle their way through insurmountable odds. We marvel at their gentle heart and unwavering resolve to put right what was left wrong. Our eyes squint at the towering figure cast against a blue and white, sun filled sky and see past the minor imperfections that find their way into the story of a heroic life. Our worlds our saved. Our anxieties are quelled. Our challenges are resolved and we owe it all to our hero, a person who embodies everything we aspire to be when the mantle is passed and our hero faces their final battle. Though heart breaking, when our hero finally lays down to rest, they are confident that their light, their strength and knowledge will live on in those of us who looked up at them, a simple soul turned hero, and cheered for their arrival to save the day. And with a tear in our eye we will carry the torch and climb to heroic heights and we will owe it all to our hero. I have many heroes, and Uncle Ed will join my father, grandmother, grandfather, and the countless other heroes in the annals of time. Thank you, Uncle Ed for being a hero to so many.

May you finally rest in peace