I cannot believe I'm actually writing my little brother's memorial pages. This was so not the way it was supposed to work out. Life without Brother Bill is going to be decidedly different. He brought much joy and laughter into my world. I will miss that. I will miss a lot...
I have sixty years of memories of life with Brother Bill and they're all rushing through my mind in high speed - still images strobing through my mind's eye.
A fresh from his bath naked two year old climbing out the window and running down the walk on the side of the house at 531 West Avenue.
An eight year old cub scout all spiffed out in his uniform with that quirky smile when he was sure everyone agreed with his opinion that he looked *goo-ood*.
A young soldier home on leave over New Year's Eve from boot camp before deployment to Vietnam coming down with german measles.
A much older young soldier coming home from Vietnam a year later, standing so tall and handsome in the living room on Shelton Avenue in Wolcott, Connecticut.
A young man taking wedding vows --- having children --- getting divorced --- being a weekend dad --- moving to Florida to escape the wicked cold of Connecticut.
That special moment in my living room where we learned we shared old memories and loyalties.
What I'm missing right now is our daily 5:00 PM call and since it's the weekend and the races and football are in season - his picks for the football games and which cars he had in the pool pics at the Amvets Post 98 where he was best known as Wild Bill.
12 July 1947 ~ 18 October 2007 --- even though there were more than sixty years in the dash, I would have very much liked there to have been more. I know you were taken so soon because you were such an awesome prayer warrior, Satan just couldn't risk leaving you here any longer.
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