There are few memories stored in my head of my MomMom Jean that exist without Bill. He has been in the picture for as long as we can remember. Our grandfather he was not, but he was essentially her other half - for the better part of 22 years. Or maybe more. It is hard to say, as they've always been inextricably wound together for such a big chunk of all of our lives.
He was commonly mistaken for her husband, my grand pop, etc. - but he took the title in stride.
"Surrogate grandfather.", he'd politely correct, as he sat at the bar at Sam's Saloon, where I've worked for the better part of 10 years or so. It is MomMom's and Bill's 'Cheer's', complete with their designated bar stools and where everyone undoubtedly knows their names. She got me the job there, when I was about 15. I never really left, and neither have they.
Until now. Bill passed away on Monday, Aug 25th in his apartment in Mercy Court - another place they shared, although they lived in different units on opposite sides of the building. MomMom was downstairs in the parking lot, waiting for him at the car to go to the Giant.
It seemed as if she was always waiting for him. Bill moved a little slower than the rest of the world. He talked a bit slower - with deliberate caution - as if he was hand-picking his words and placing them delicately into sentences. Perhaps it was spending so much of his life wth my grand mother, the life of the party, perpetually on the move. Together, they created a balanced pair.
At Sam's, you can find Jean circling the bar all evening, chatting it up to anyone and everyone. Bill hung back, seated in his stool, observing. I always thought he'd rather be home watching the Phillies game. I think I was right.
Baseball was a topic that, if you got him started on it, he'd talk for hours. Bill was a pitcher in the minor league and almost made it to the pros. He'd met many a famous sports figure in his day. You could tell he loved it, his passion and fondness for the sport spilled over into every conversation.
Bill's family is saying goodbye to him, privately, today. I'd never met any of his family until Monday, when I was introduced to his two sons. It was strange to meet the immediate family of someone who has always been a part of ours. Hopefully, they know what he was to us and what role he played in each of our lives.
Bill was kind, even-tempered and patient; he loved his sports and his newspapers. He came to every family function and birthday and he was there when things weren't so easy. He was a part of us, and we'll miss him.
He was commonly mistaken for her husband, my grand pop, etc. - but he took the title in stride.
"Surrogate grandfather.", he'd politely correct, as he sat at the bar at Sam's Saloon, where I've worked for the better part of 10 years or so. It is MomMom's and Bill's 'Cheer's', complete with their designated bar stools and where everyone undoubtedly knows their names. She got me the job there, when I was about 15. I never really left, and neither have they.
Until now. Bill passed away on Monday, Aug 25th in his apartment in Mercy Court - another place they shared, although they lived in different units on opposite sides of the building. MomMom was downstairs in the parking lot, waiting for him at the car to go to the Giant.
It seemed as if she was always waiting for him. Bill moved a little slower than the rest of the world. He talked a bit slower - with deliberate caution - as if he was hand-picking his words and placing them delicately into sentences. Perhaps it was spending so much of his life wth my grand mother, the life of the party, perpetually on the move. Together, they created a balanced pair.
At Sam's, you can find Jean circling the bar all evening, chatting it up to anyone and everyone. Bill hung back, seated in his stool, observing. I always thought he'd rather be home watching the Phillies game. I think I was right.
Baseball was a topic that, if you got him started on it, he'd talk for hours. Bill was a pitcher in the minor league and almost made it to the pros. He'd met many a famous sports figure in his day. You could tell he loved it, his passion and fondness for the sport spilled over into every conversation.
Bill's family is saying goodbye to him, privately, today. I'd never met any of his family until Monday, when I was introduced to his two sons. It was strange to meet the immediate family of someone who has always been a part of ours. Hopefully, they know what he was to us and what role he played in each of our lives.
Bill was kind, even-tempered and patient; he loved his sports and his newspapers. He came to every family function and birthday and he was there when things weren't so easy. He was a part of us, and we'll miss him.
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