He taught me some basic maintenance on a VW Beetle, and how to listen to Weird Al at an ungodly volume.

Bill is the kind of man who follows a path of humanist philosophy that just comes naturally to him. He is a man who raised a son who wasn't biologically his own even after the relationship with they boy's mother ended - loyal and driven to keep his promises.

And he is a proud, proud grandfather. There was a new spark of life in him, a bit of a bounce in his step, for a long while after his grandson came along.

The last time I saw Bill, I was only 3 months away from having Baby Wolfe, and he told me he couldn't believe his baby sis was becoming a mother, how proud he was of @winstonwolfe and I, how impressed he was with our growing careers. He said he knew mom would be proud, too.

Three weeks later, he was gone, suddenly. He never got to meet my son.

But the Universe, with its whimsical ways, decided to give me a gift to help me say "goodbye". When I held Baby Wolfe in my arms for the first time, we were all in tears in the delivery room because Baby Wolfe held an uncanny resemblance to my big brother (It was the nose!).

Four years later, I still sometimes catch a glimpse of him when Baby Wolfe is running around the house.

The image below was created about a year before he passed by @winstonwolfe and myself.

It captures 4 generations of men in my family - my father, Bill, Bill's son, and Bill's grandson - and was displayed by his casket at the funeral. It now hangs in my father's home.

Though these photos were only snapshots and a fun experiment at the time, we had no idea what life had in store, and they are now priceless. More than priceless, if that's even possible.

At Bill's funeral, I wrote an note on the back of a 33 year-old printed version of photo #1 and left it in his hand to rest in peace with him.
It said, "I love you, big brother. Say hello to Mom for me. "

Forever in my heart, and now, forever on the blockchain.

Thanks for reading!