Papa Bill 8/2/42 - 9/9/10

Last Wednesday I had an appointment to meet with my godmother and completely forgot about our meeting. What was so unusual was that we both forgot. Our meeting was to take care of paperwork so she would have the authority to sign documents and handle business for her ailing husband. I left her a message that evening when I remembered our missed meeting. She called me the next morning shortly after 9am. I answered the phone expecting her to discuss rescheduling of our last meeting when her voice cracked and I could hear she was crying. She then gave me the worst news I'm sure she has ever had to give, her husband of 34 years had passed less than 2 hours prior. As I scrambled to get dressed to run to my best friend's job to inform her about her father, my heart sunk to the pit of my stomach. It seems just as it was sinking, there was a beam of hope and joy. He would no longer suffer the stiffness of the shell of a body that had been stricken with Parkinson's Disease. His life here on Earth had certainly earned him a place in Heaven, and he was now rejoicing with angels and family members who had gone on before him. His passing occurred only a couple days before my own wedding anniversary, and a week prior to his own 34th year anniversary. As George and I traveled to drop the kids off at their mothers, I began to cry uncontrollably. George looked at me wondering what was wrong. We had planned this wonderful weekend getaway, and here I was sobbing like a baby. It took a day, but it had finally hit me that the man who had given me off beat marital advice (that proved to be more valuable than I knew at the time), was gone forever. I told Dorian that his Papa Bill was gone, and he hung his head and said, "but I didn't get to tell him bye." At 7, he still experienced the same challenge we have as adults when we loose a loved one. I now was able to tell him something my mother had never knew to tell me at 6 years old when my brother died. I simply told him, if you live a life as good as Papa Bill did, you didn't need to say goodbye. Your last "see you later" will suffice, and you will have a spot in heaven along with Papa Bill. As we prepare for his home going memorial service tomorrow, I comforted by the very words I told my 7 year old. It's not "good bye", it's "see you later."