Matt Brundage

Archive for 2016

Thursday, 29 September 2016

Robert Gaudin Greene, June 23, 1924–September 27, 2016

Robert Gaudin Greene

From the beginning, there were strands that once anchored me to my childhood. In government, it was President Ronald Reagan. In faith, Pope John Paul II (now Saint John Paul the Great). In sports, baseball player Cal Ripken Jr. In music, Brian Wilson. And in family, it was my late grandfather, Robert Gaudin Greene. It’s hard to explain, but their continued presence in my life served as a sort of willful suspension of time. In a way, I could keep telling myself, “Time isn’t really passing …” or “The world is just as it was …” as long as my childhood heroes — my strands — were still alive and thriving. As long as Papa was around, I was still but a child, an adolescent. But on Tuesday morning, another strand came loose, as my grandfather passed into eternal life.

His obituary:

On September 27, 2016 Robert Morgan Gaudin Greene, age 92, peacefully passed away in Rockville, MD. He was born on June 23, 1924 in Waco, TX, the 6th of 7 children, the fourth of five sons — the Martlet — of James Floyd Greene and Mary Louise Dupre. At the age of five, his family settled in Birmingham, AL where he attended Lakeview Elementary School, Ramsay High School, Birmingham Southern College, and Howard College (now Samford University). He enlisted in the US Navy in World War II, advancing to the rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade. He served on the destroyer U.S.S. Hall, the hospital ship U.S.S. Consolation, and the gasoline tanker U.S.S. Patapsco. After the War, he settled in the Washington D.C. area and received a Mechanical Engineering degree from the Catholic University of America. He married the former Ellen Rowena Deckelman on November 8, 1952.

Robert Gaudin Greene weds Ellen Rowena Deckelman on November 8, 1952

Mr. Greene had a varied career starting as a Mechanical Engineer for the Bureau of Ships Model Basin and then to the U.S. Army Biological Laboratories at Fort Detrick. He served as the Patent Security Officer of the U.S. Army from 1973 until 1980. After 26 years of Army employment, he retired in 1980 as a General Engineer from Headquarters US Army Material Command. He was a life-long Catholic with membership in the Knights of Columbus, Legion of Mary and Holy Name Society and was a founding member of St Elizabeth Parish in Rockville, MD. He attended Gaithersburg Community Bible Study for several years. Among his hobbies were fishing, crossword puzzles, Scrabble, antique clock repair, traveling, and being among family. He leaves behind his beloved wife Ellen, and 3 children: Theresa M. Brundage (Geoffrey) of Olney, MD, Paul V. of Rockville, MD and Kevin M. (Amy) of Elmira, NY, 8 grandchildren and 3 great-grandchildren. He was pre-deceased by 1 grandchild in 1998. He is survived by a brother, Edward A. Greene of Chevy Chase, MD.

There’s an old saying that goes something like, “You never have to ask someone if they’re a veteran, because they’ll just tell you. And then they’ll keep reminding you again and again.” However, this saying in no way applied to my grandfather. Very rarely did I hear about his service in the Navy during World War II, or of his employment as a mechanical engineer with the Army during Korea and Vietnam. Papa was always perfectly modest about it, even considering the degree of reverence that society typically bestows upon WWII veterans — the quintessential members of the Greatest Generation.

My only recollection of his time in the Navy comes from his naval enlistment photograph, framed and still hanging in the hallway of his home. I’d pass by that faded photograph from time to time, pausing for just a moment to meditate on the man in the picture. I saw it again recently and it was like peering into a mirror.

Robert Gaudin Greene joins the Navy

From my earliest memories, I witnessed his seemingly unbounded intelligence and curiosity. For instance, he knew the binomial nomenclature of scores of flora and fauna. He restored old clocks and household appliances. For years, he kept his mind sharp by finishing the Washington Post crossword puzzle before breakfast. His copies of the dictionary and the Scrabble players dictionary are ragged and lined with his frequent notes and addenda. Yes, he edited the dictionary!

He retired at age 56, the year I was born. He lived a humble, mostly quiet life in retirement. Even though his lifestyle was never lavish, I still managed to get the impression that he never had to worry about money. As a child, having sleepovers at Grandma and Papa’s house was always a special time, always a calming experience. Papa was, in every sense of the word, a model grandfather.

Deep in my heart — that’s where the knot comes loose.

Robert Gaudin Greene

Tuesday, 6 September 2016

Sniff Bun-Bun Brundage, 2007-2016

Sniff Bun-Bun Brundage, spring 2008

April 2008: Sniff, in one of Annie’s favorite pictures

It is with immense sadness that Annie and I announce the death of our first rabbit, Sniff Bun-Bun Brundage. Sniff was born circa June 2007 and died on Friday night, September 2, 2016. He follows his adopted brother, Munch Dallas Brundage into paradise. He is survived by his human sister, Tanya, and his human parents.

We adopted Sniff from a very generous family who was trying to find a new home for their rabbit. We went up to meet them at a nearby mall, and they gave us pretty much everything: cage, food bowl, food, litter, chew toys, and a cute little bunny, wearing a purple vest with a detachable leash. We are forever grateful for their priceless gift. Sniff gave us tremendous joy for nine years.

Sniff Bun-Bun Brundage, September 2007

September 2007: Sniff, a few days after we brought him home.

He was truly part of our family. Sniff was a mama’s boy. He would hop over to Annie for a petting and then Munch would follow suit. In his younger days, Sniff used to do his corkscrew hops around the family room. When we lived at the townhouse, he would hop over to Annie from the kitchen and he would circle around her feet, and play with her sweater, which was dangling from a chair. We used to take him for walks outside in his purple harness. Once, during the fall, we took him outside and he got scared of a falling leaf. It was hilarious.

Sniff never liked to be held, but he loved to be petted. He would put his head on Annie’s lap, and just curl up on her legs for a petting. Annie would scratch both sides of his cheeks and rub the top of his head. When we moved to the single family home, Sniff and Munch shared a bedroom and they would hop over to the master suite at night and sleep under our bed. That lasted for a while. After Munch died, Sniff had the bunny room all to himself. He would come over to the master bedroom whenever he heard us, such as when we were giving Tanya a bath, or when Tanya was drinking her milk on the bed. In whatever bedroom we’d happen to be in, Sniff would find us and tunnel under the bed. Tanya and Annie would go up to see him during the daytime, and also in the evening time until I get home. On the rare occasion that Tanya would be sick or cry in the middle of the night, Sniff would hop over and inspect the situation. Whenever Annie would go into Sniff’s room to visit him, Sniff would run circles around her, or flop down over her feet, asking for a petting.

Sniff and Munch used to have a little toy elephant hanging from his cage door. The elephant had this little bell attached to it, so we’d know whenever they entered or exited their cage. Sniff also had this other little metal bell toy. Whenever we’d put it in front of him, Sniff would pick it up with his teeth and fling it out of his way.

Sniff, July 2016

July 2016: Sniff, in his last outdoor photo session.

We would give him lettuce, kale, carrots, and dandelion leaves, but his favorite was kale. We decided to almost completely cut out kale, as we were afraid that he’d get kidney stones like his brother. On the rare occasion that Annie would give him kale, Sniff would smell it coming and get excited before it arrived. After Sniff started to have dental problems and had to get one of his incisors extracted, Annie started shaving his carrots, which were easier for him to gnaw. Recently, Tanya would go outside and look for suitable treats for him, such as dandelions, clover, and occasionally, dried leaves. Sniff used to love to eat dried leaves. I’d call them his bunny potato chips.

Sniff slowly turned into an old rabbit, and was actually on arthritis medication, Pepcid, and pain medication. Annie took Sniff to the rabbit emergency room on Friday afternoon, after he appeared listless and didn’t have an appetite. The doctor said that he had stomach ulcers and a low temperature. Sniff died shortly before midnight. We were planning to go see him the next day, and we thought that we’d be able to hold him at least one more time. Annie was even holding out hope that he’d bounce back and recover. It wasn’t meant to be.

On Saturday, we went back to the animal hospital to pick up Sniff’s body. Annie held him in her arms all the way home. We held a funeral in Sniff’s room. I said my Catholic prayers, and Annie said her Buddhist prayers. As before with Munch, we buried Sniff in the backyard, under a new rosebush just a few feet away from his brother.

Annie still goes up to turn the light on in his room when the sun goes down. Most of Sniff’s things are still where they’ve always been. It’s hard to break routine. We still half expect to see him hop over to the master bedroom, or to open his door and see him lying down in his usual spot on the carpet. We told Tanya that Sniff is in bunny heaven, reunited with Munch.

Sniff and Munch, July 2011

July 2011: Sniff and Munch, sniffing each other.