Matters of Life and Death

I attended a funeral today for a friend who had a lifetime of impact on everyone he met--and in my view-- particularly to my children and the boys of our ward while they were growing up. Bill was only 51, and his death was unexpected. Like my young mother years ago, he suffered a massive heart attack and slipped away as his wife and paramedics helplessly tried to save him. Today we all joined to laugh and cry and bid Bill good-bye for now. His sister-in-law spoke of Bill as a "rescuer" and told the legendary story of Bill and the "bear can." We laughed as we recognized the Bill we knew in the words that honored him. One morning a few years ago, my friend April and I were on our morning walk. It was very early. The only living that were awake seemed to be us, some birds and insects, and some barking dogs. We walked down the street in front of the Abbotts'. Across the road from them lived a couple of women (that's another story) who had show dogs, and that morning, as we walked by, their German shepherd came over the fence, right at us--growling and barking. I was petrified and prepared to die. April was braver, but there may have been a slight amount of screaming. As we stood, frozen to the ground with fear, Bill came flying from his house like Superman on a mission. He grabbed the dog and pulled him to the ground, speaking firmly and returning the unfriendly canine to his own backyard. Bill rescued us another time when we had frozen faucets in our new house. There he was and refusing to take money. It is always a time to consider the fragile nature of life. You never know if you will live to be ninety like my friend Donna or be called home in what seems like an young and untimely death. Bill affected many lives, including mine. He was a force for life and laughter and service and family and scouting and love for others. Good-bye for now, Bill.