Below is an abridged version of the speech my brother will give at our father's funeral tomorrow. It tells some of the story. Here is the ending:

My father spent several weeks in the hospital this summer while they tried to determine what was wrong. Once we got the diagnosis and knew that his time was limited, we decided to keep him at home, where he was so much happier, for as long as possible; as long as he was lucid was our plan..

Thankfully he was aware until the end, he knew and enjoyed us and it was a joy to care for him. He participated in life as fully as possible and was up and about in his wheelchair until the last 2 days. Even when he could barely talk or stay alert, for long, he sat with us and listened to music. On the evening before his death he said to mother, "look at the full moon." They turned off the lights and enjoyed it for several minutes. By then, it was often hard for him to see much of anything but he had somehow seen the moon out the window. That night, he died so tranquilly in his bed, lying on his horsehair mattress and listening to Bach.

My brother washed his face and combed his hair and called my mother, who surrounded him with candles. Everyone says what a horrible disease this is. Yes, and it can be such a profound and spiritual experience also. We made a huge effort to fill those final days with love and togetherness, to heal any wounds and say good-bye.

I would start again tomorrow to relive those 2 months. Thank you to Ma, Katherine, Eric, Maya, and Bill and all the hospice people and nurses for being so great.

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When I graduated from high school, my father gave me a geode, a quartz agglomeration that forms as spheres, well rounded but looking rather dull on the outside. But when you cut them open, you find real beauty, purple crystals with many different facets. He said that hoped that my life would be like that, well rounded, not too showy, but with lots of interesting facets.

His life certainly met that definition. The condolence cards sent to my mother said, he was - a unique individual- an interesting and bright person- someone who valued friendships

They noted his astounding memory and his great sense of humor. He was an enormous character who enriched the lives of many,many people. There are lots of superlatives in describing Herbert Howard.

Herbert Graham Howard was born two months prematurely, on November 30th -- shortly after Thanksgiving. His mother had had several miscarriages, and the doctor had advised bed rest. She followed his advice for several months, until Thanksgiving came, and she descended from her room for the traditional Turkey dinner. Shortly thereafter she went into labor. This being 1930, the ambulance service in Reading, Mass, was rudimentary, so they called the Funeral Home. A hearse was dispatched; she climbed into the wicker basket used for carrying out the dead body, was brought downstairs, into the hearse and taken to the hospital.

It was a fitting entry into the world. My father loved dark humor, Charles Addams cartoons and the like. Halloween was a favorite holiday, so it was fitting that we gather here just a few days before Halloween to celebrate his life. It is fitting that he died on Friday the 13th, with a Full Moon.

My mother asked that I briefly talk about his disease and the last few months.

Creutzfeld-Jakobs-Disease is a rare disease, only a few hundred people each year get it in the US. It is universally fatal because your brain is progressively destroyed.

In my father's case, it started with a balance problem in early July. By the end of July, he could not walk unassisted. He was at the Mass General for the first week of August, where they did the full range of tests - CAT scans, EEGs, etc, found no obvious problem, and could only determine that the nerves in his legs were not functioning properly. He was sent to the Shaunnessy Hospital in Salem, and stayed there for several weeks of rehab. But the nerve damage continued to get worse, not better, and affected other parts as well. "It is like there is a gossamer veil before my eyes," he said at one point. A doctor there thought it might be CJD, and ordered a spinal tap, saying that we would know the results in a few weeks.

He was back home again in September, with assistance from his family, the Visiting Nurses Association (who were great) and eventually the North Shore Hospice (who were also great). He got progressively more tired, but when visitors came, he often was able to rally his energy. Always the gentleman, he would apologize for not being able to rise and properly greet them.

What amazed us was his strength of character. He knew he was going to die soon, but remained optimistic, funny, and composed to the end. At the MGH's request, my father went back on October 6th for another strenuous round of testing -- not so that the doctors could help him, but so that he could help them. For years, he had been listed as a potential an organ donor, but with this disease the medical profession had no interest in his heart, kidney or cornea. But they great interest in his brain, and now Herbert Howard's brain. the one with the astounding memory that directed and managed his thoughts and actions since1930, is at the MGH to help us better understand knowledge and how the brain works.

Yes, he was an enormous character who enriched the lives of many, many people. Each of us saw one or more facets of his life.

Perhaps only God saw the whole Herb Howard.

By, Alexandra Howard