He made bad choices nearly all of his life. Maybe he felt left out. The middle child of three boys each with a wicked sense of humor, he sometimes seemed to fall into the invisible category. Two years younger than the oldest boy and four years older than one who literally was reading encyclopedias by the age of three.
All three were exceptionally talented. Whether it be art, music, you name it. Like a lot of children of the 60's and 70's, they each rebelled in some manner, but he outdid his brothers. Sometimes going missing for months. He burnt some bridges with his addictions and horrible money habits. Something he seemed to regret later, but not enough to actually make permanent changes.
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Even in her early twenties, she exuded the epitome of true southern charm. Her refined southern Tennessee accent captured most immediately. Her gentle nature never seemed to waver. But she was strongly independent too. Everyone who knew her spoke of how amazingly sweet she was. She loved to cook, all healthy food, hiked, biked and ran.
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His missing years were known only to his immediate family and not even them at times. Eventually he settled down and began to work on straightening his life out. He married a lady in the service, adopted her daughter and began to study to become a nurse.
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After college, she began her career with a company as a computer programmer. Shortly thereafter she attracted the attention of a graphics designer, eleven years her senior. He was the eldest child of three boys with a wicked sense of humor and he described her as magical from the start. They married and traveled before settling down and raising two boys of their own.
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We arrived in Nashville's Centennial Park early that morning. A midway mini-family reunion, if you will. We Hoosiers staked out our claim on the picnic tables, pulling three together and covering them with table clothes. Although it was still early, the International Festival was beginning to get crowded so we went in pairs to grab some early grub.
When I returned, I saw that the crowd had begun to try to take over the tables we had covered, encroaching on our predetermined space. I was a bit irked that several had sat at the tables that we had set up in advance knowing we would have around 14 in total when everyone arrived.
Since we had started out early, I was hungry even at 10 in the morning. I sat in the middle of the tables and began to eat the roasted chicken I found at one of the booths. I noticed my sister talking with a guy I was sure was trying to invade our space. She was showing him her camera when he looked over at me. When I looked up, he said, "Hi".
I resisted shrugging my shoulders and instead said a tolerable, "Hi" back to him and went back to my chicken. I thought it was odd when my sister seemed surprised and said, "All she said was 'hi'?" I looked up again because I didn't know why she seemed so welcoming to this stranger who surely wanted to nab our picnic spot.
When I looked at his face I realized he was a very attractive man I estimated to be in his mid-forties. And then it dawned on me. I had not seen him in close to 30 years. Standing before me was Bill, my long lost cousin, the middle child of three wickedly funny boys. I jumped up to hug this guy who had seemingly emerged from the other side. The in-between years for him were up and down, but appeared to be settled down. He was not in his mid-forties, but 54 and ruggedly handsome. He was still wickedly funny, but I managed to make him laugh when I asked him how many face lifts he had. Considering he spent several years abusing his body, I was surprised how how young he looked.
He was by then married to a young girl more than 20 years his junior, his third wife. They appeared happy and we were all delighted to be reunited with our missing cousin and his young wife. From first appearances it seemed that he had beaten the odds. He had a successful career and talked about his regrets over his past choices.
A couple hours later, his older brother arrived from Alabama with his two boys and sweet Tennessee wife. Even 20 years after their wedding, he still referred to her as his bride. They were obscenely compatible and their boys, by then teenagers, were amazingly polite and sweet. Unlike his younger brother, we had remained close and were delighted whenever we could arrange our schedules to spend some time together with them.
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Within just a few weeks after our Nashville reunion, Bill was diagnosed with stage IV esophgeal cancer. The treatment was long and brutal but apparently successful. The radiation left him extremely weak, his throat nearly raw and aged him over a dozen years. Eating most things caused uncontrollable coughing. He lived mainly on drinking Boost.
After his recovery and return to work, his young wife fled off to California and left him with a big house he could not afford and the mounting money issues that he had never controlled. The next year left him in total despair, working double shifts, attempting to get his strength and weight back. Working 80 hour weeks in a psych unit burned more calories than he could take in.
He researched several methods of suicide, planning it in detail. However he knew that many of those who attempt it end up drooling vegetables when they do it incorrectly. His family was extremely worried about him, alone now in Nashville and they knew the depression was overtaking him.
Reconnecting after decades, Bill and my brother began talking for several hours on the phone. Even working overtime, Bill could not possibly dig himself out the debt and the huge house payment. My brother finally convinced Bill to move to Indiana and live with him. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief that things would get better.
Two weeks before the move, they found the cancer had returned.
Knowing he could not survive the side effects he had from the first treatment again, he opted to just let nature take it's course.
When I first saw him after the move a year ago last November, I was shocked by his skeletal appearance. He could not have weighed 100 pounds. And he had come to Indiana to not die alone.
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