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Thought I'd post a few snapshots from the luncheon following my cousin Joe's funeral last Friday (See yesterday's group shot). It's right to start with my cousin Bill, since he is Joe's oldest brother. My family will judge whether this captures him fittingly. No, I imagine he'll make that call. Once upon a time Bill and his wife Gerry lived with my family at 1620 Westmoreland, an interim terminal which alll living Byrne memories were filtered through. A lot of years later I lived with them and their daughters Amy and Lisa in Bogotå.
Yeah, I call him Billy. When he comes to a family mix: he's Billy and I'm Teddy. It's the only place where the Y's are a natural part of our names. It's a familiar that coats us when we walk through that door into a place crammed with our memories.
I wonder what sort of emotions a snapshot expresses? I wonder whether it carries mine, Billy's, or the many which his family bring to this image? Perhaps they are a swirl of all of them and those that grand, and great grandchildren might filter this picture through. Perhaps one or another of them will leave their reactions in a comment? Or not. It's a private thing, eh?
My cousin Bill Manson passed away on April 11, 2009. We will miss him physically, we cannot shake his legacy, and of course, we never will want to.