Seeing Uncle Roger always seemed a surprise, but without fail it was a pleasant one. He was a hearty man who possessed a comforting and reliable spirit, very much like the blue jeans, plaid shirt, and worn ball cap he wore every day. Unassuming, even shy, he exuded a quiet trustworthiness and strength. I always had the impression when speaking with him that I was with one whom Jesus described as "the salt of the earth." Never the center of conversation, he always flavored family gatherings by adding his own distinct personality, even if it be only a few words or a steady quiet smile. I know that many of us are tempted to ask what "might have been" with Roger, but it is important to remind ourselves he was exactly who he was, and at least, for my part, I never saw him try to be anything or anyone else. There is an honesty of spirit in this that should be honored, even emulated. And while the unusally private character of his life may lead us to believe his mark on our world was light, we have no way of knowing the height, breadth, and depth of his ultimate significance. In the words of St. Paul, "God has chosen the lowly things of the world, things counted as nothing at all, to bring to nothing what the world considers important." 1 Cor. 1:28. I picked green as my candle's background color because it reminds me of the pine trees that surrounded his house, and the green of his classic VW Bus. Green is also the color of the church calendar leading up to Lent, which of course begins with Ash Wednesday. And, may I ask, who can think of Roger without remembering cigarettes and ashes? Uncle Roger, you will be missed but not forgotten.