Almost A Brother

This is not a piece of fiction.

In November 1968, a woman gave birth to her fourth son. He was named William, and they called him Bill, for short. He had three older brothers. Paul was the eldest, then Tim, then Dan.

In November 1969, a day before little Bill's first birthday, another woman gave birth to her fifth child, but her second son. He was named William, and they called him Bill, for short. His older brother was Dan.

Years passed. In the early 1980s, Paul met a young woman in college. They fell in love. After graduation, they got married. Their brothers were groomsmen for them. The groomsmen were Tim, Dan, and Bill, Dan, and Bill. The couple's brothers got along with each other very well. They were almost brothers, but not quite.

As time went along and the couple bore children, the kids enjoyed the idea of having two "Uncles Dan" and "Uncles Bill". It was a standing joke, as it were, to discern which UD or UB they were referring to. The nephews and nieces were fond of all their uncles, though, and being confused for other Uncle Dan or Uncle Bill was never considered an insult.

Uncle Bill E, as the one born in 1968 was known, could repair any vehicle, build any structure, or fix anything broken, it seemed. He was a man with a quiet demeanor, a keen mind, a ready smile, a warm heart, and a generous spirit. He adored his nieces and nephews, and he traveled with them to Europe and in various American states when possible. He smoked a pipe, and his thoughtfulness shone while he did so, often accompanied by a twinkle in his eye when an idea or bit of wit crossed his mind.

If you look in my bio, you might gather that I am the other UB, and I was blessed to know Bill E. in college. We were not close then, but as our siblings were wed to one another, we enjoyed conversations at times. On a visit to my sister's home in Virginia in 1993, Bill E. repaired the C-V joint in my Nissan Sentra wagon. He charged only for the cost of parts. That was his way. I recall providing pizza for the day of labor.

I haven't seen Bill E. in many years. I hear about him often from Paul and my sister. The reports are always positive. Were. They were always positive.

In some cultures, the brother of a brother-in-law is considered family. That's not the case in America, typically. But Paul's brothers are my brothers. And we lost Bill E last week. An apparent heart attack while working alone.

Since September 2024, I've noted a handful of people in my circle of life who have passed away. My friend Eric, who died suddenly last fall. My coworker and friend Kathy died of cancer in March. My father-in-law passed in July. I grieved each one. I have seen Eric's widow heal from her loss, and that is encouraging. My own heart is healing from the loss of my friend Kathy. The passing of my father-in-law has been complicated by family difficulties, as far too many people experience. But in this death, I know how crushing the loss of Bill E is and can be for such a close-knit family as his.

My greatest sorrow is for his siblings and in-laws, and for his nieces and nephews. He was a mentor to many of the younger ones, and they will feel his absence most keenly. They learned building and mechanical trades from him, and he was a wise advisor for life choices. I pray they will find peace in the midst of their sorrow. His absence has made a void we will feel for a long time.

Till we meet again, Bill E.