They say it is better to remember and smile rather than to consider things as they are with sadness in our hearts. With that being said, I would like to share some happy memories of my baby brother. For starters, I remember when we were kids how we would tear around the neighborhood on our bikes, how Fuzz wore his blue jeans with the cuffs rolled up and refused to go anywhere without his PF Flyers. That his smile could light up a room and that he could take a lot of joshing as well, and believe me there was plenty of that, along with Indian rope burns, knuckle sandwiches and all the things brothers and sisters endure as children In fact, his ability to roll with the punches and laugh things off as a child never wavered as he grew into adulthood. And though he was a man of few words or perhaps because of it, when he did have something to say you knew it was important. Best of all, he had a great big ol’ heart, was gentle and kind. This is the deal: As far as brothers and sisters go, we are the keepers of each other’s history from childhood to adulthood. Consequently, when we lose them, it’s as if we’ve lost a significant part of ourselves. So I’m going to miss him terribly but I’m going to count his 62 years on this earth as a loving brother, son, uncle, husband and friend as 62 years that God blessed us all. See you on the other side sweetie. XO Sissy
