Thursday, February 8, 2018
Somehow, when we become separated from the small town memories that forever anchor us to those halcyon days, we begin to forget about the actual things, times and people that hold us to those memories.
Thankfully I have one that will forever tether me to those magical times.
I remember water so blue it seemed a dream now. As a kid I didn’t notice that it was the refraction from the blue paint at the bottom of the pool. I remember being set in front of a tv in the elevated tv room that looked over that backyard and it’s pool while my godparents, Nannette and Bill, watched me - Mom and Dad out on some errand. And I remember Uncle Bill, a handsome man, dark hair, lean, confident and funny, holding a beer, a “stubbie”, by the neck while he cajoled away God knows how many Saturdays and Sundays. Amid the adult banter while he lounged on a chaise, he somehow always gave me an extra minute or two, extra attention that is so exhilarating to a kid. I also remember many years later, accidentally finding myself in his neighborhood, and dropping by. He had just returned from a stay at the hospital, for what I don't know. But even though he was post-illness weak, he still said, “Come in Dave, come in. Let’s share a beer. First one I’ve had in a while. Not supposed to drink, ya know.” So we sat, some 35 years after my last pool visit there, talking about everything, and nothing. About my time as a firefighter and how proud he was that I chose that path. About the old days, and time around the pool. Though he was smaller, leaner, more frail, and maybe more gray hair than black, he was somehow still that guy - the grown up, that adult that, when he talked to you made you feel special, just like when I was a kid. I remember leaving his kitchen that day, the last time I saw him, feeling the same exhilaration I did as a little boy. Wow. Uncle Bill just spent a bunch of time with me. And I felt special because of it.
You did that Uncle Bill. You made me feel special even if our time was separated by so many years. I have a feeling you did that for many people.
And you’ll be missed for it.
Godspeed, and blessings to your whole family.
Funeral Establishment Operator Class 1 License FE-415
