WHEN THE SUN SETS

TLW (The Little Woman) and I sat in the diner, having our usual Sunday morning breakfast. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my cell phone, and turned it on. I seldom do this one act. I explained to TLW that I would leave it on in case the Macaroni Man called about today’s game. Not five minutes later, it rang, the restaurant was noisy, I was getting irritated, and little rug rats were scurrying up and down the aisles, annoying me.

I answered the phone, but instead of hearing the Macaroni man, it was Rich my good neighbor across the street. He informed me that MMB (My Man Bill) had passed away early in the morning!

What should be considered a warm, sunny beautiful day, seemed cold, dark and sad! It seems a piece of the neighborhood, a good piece, had somehow been stolen from me.

My first thoughts were of his family, his beautiful wife and his two beautiful children. My heart is aching for a little girl named Christina, who lives next door to me. A child who loves her dad, who was taking it very hard that her Dad was sick. And now a child who just realized one of her greatest fears! This young lady would never dance with her Dad on her wedding day. A child thrust into adulthood, yet will cry the tears of a child for her lost Dad.

I thought of MMB’s son, Billy, a tall handsome guy, just like his Dad. A boy approaching and crossing the threshold of manhood, who would have to do it alone, without his dad’s guidance. A young man who would find his achievements and wonder how proud his dad would feel.

I thought of Carole, a wonderful woman who does all she can for a guest in her home. Carole’s home is constantly open, and a place for a friend or stranger. Her home, the little paradise that she and her husband shared, the place of memories and dreams was changed forever. The only thing open wider is her heart.

But Bill lives on! He more than anyone I know or knew, had the most Christian of values. He didn’t shroud himself in self-righteousness. I don’t think he was particularly religious, but Bill did more than most churchgoers. He made it a practice to give. He gave of himself, when help was needed. But no one asked! If you needed and did ask, he gave you more than you needed.

In all my years of life, I have never been more fortunate than when I first met Bill! It was a cold wintry late fall day. I was in my back yard, up to my knees in fallen leaves, raking away. Suddenly there was a knock on my gate door. I opened it, and there stood what looked like St, Christopher, on one of those medals they handed out in Catholic School! If you are familiar with it, it shows St. Christopher with the baby Jesus on his shoulders, wading across a ragging river. Instead, it was MMB and his little son Billy. Little Billy wore a Mets cap, and his Dad reached out his hand to shake mine. I wonder how anything could be truer! Since I’ve known him, he has helped more than one across a ragging river, doing so as he carried us all, in his heart.

I will miss MMB, as will TLW. We will look after that beautiful family as long as they live there. Maybe somehow, in some small way, I can pay him back.

There were a number of grown men at his home yesterday, paying their condolences to his widow. I have a new respect and deep fondness for them. They were the ones that openly cried for that wonderful man, My Man Bill.


And so as the sun sets, for the first time without the secure knowledge that Bill is there, the world is consoled by the knowledge that he left a legacy of love and humanity, and a respect that few men could ever achieve.

Please remember all those that need our hopes and prayers, my brother-in-law, John.