Blog Break

I just found out a family friend died late last night; Bill Parsons. He had been in declining health the last few years so his death was not a surprise but it still saddens me to write these words. Bill was the father of one of my husband's closest friends. My husband knew Bill since he and Bill's son, Rob, met in junior high school. I met Bill when I started dating my husband about 17 years ago. I like him, he was interesting to talk to. What I remember the most is his stories. He told me about being an Army pilot in WWII. About flying for United in the late 40's, early 50's. About growing up in south Denver during the Depression. One story I liked was about having fun as a teenager with very little money. He and his friends bought two watermelons for a nickle a piece, some sodas, and then took their dates, a gramophone and some records, to the tennis courts in Washington Park and danced the hot summer night away. He told me what it was like to be the principal of George Washington High School in 60's when the times were so chaotic. Another story was about going on a fishing trip with a group of other school principals and how it rained so hard that they spent most the trip in the camper.

A few years after I met Bill my sister got married and her new in-laws had a party at their house. Chuck, my sister's new father-in-law, started telling a story about a fishing trip he had taken and I remember thinking I've heard this story before. I had, it was the same story Bill had told me. Chuck and Bill knew each other. Small world. A couple of years after this Chuck died. By this time he was also my niece's grandfather. Now ten years later, Bill is gone too.

I believe the connections we make in this life continue when we reach the other side. So, Bill when you see Chuck, tell him I said hello. Chuck when you run into Bill, give him a helping hand, he's a new guy you know.