11-03-1965 to 07-02-2006 = 40 years
07-02-2006 to 07-02-2017 = 11 years
He’d be 51
Had he lived.
And oh how he lived!
When he was alive.
Until he died.
On a Sunday.
Just like today.
Feels like yesterday …
And forever ago.
Just the same.
But nothing is the same.
The stage was set; on that day:
Sights = Gray skies and rain.
Sounds = Phone ringing, mother wailing, sirens in the distance then getting closer. Louder. Shrill. Retching.
Feelings = Agony, disbelief, doubled over, hands on knees, out of breath, sobbing.
What? Died in his father’s arms.
How? During a coughing spell which caused artery to rupture, he bled to death in seconds.
Why? Because. The tattoo devil on her shoulder. No reason.
Let’s begin again in the hopes of a different ending.
Not how life works.
Life. Unpredictable. One plays the hand he is dealt.
Today (everyday) we remember Billy Bob’s baby brother. His favorite color was yellow. He loved to read weird stuff … Robert Heinlien, Hunter S. Thompson. He was outdoorsy. Lol. Not really. Sort of. He did hunt and fish. He loved guns. His costuming was legendary. Spent money he didn’t have on things he didn’t need. He bought a sewing machine to make chaps. Who the hell wears chaps? Cowboy DGW that’s who. Haha. He only used that machine once but oh how he had to have it. He smoked and drank too much only to quit before starting again. He was irritatingly lazy and almost always late. Self-centered. Momma’s boy. Vain. He was fallible in his humanity yet in our memories he is blame free. Perfection. Gone too soon.
May the souls of the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace.
Whenever I hear White Zombie or Alice in Chains, I think of you. Rock on. We miss you broham. Billy Bob is lost without you.