POWIP Piece of Work In Progress – Former Abode of Dan Collins

Goodbyes

This was the Packers fan I asked for prayers for a couple months ago.

A couple of months ago one of the men I adored most in this world, my Uncle Bill, suffered a stroke. Since then he had been struggling through a tortuous attempt at recovery. At 1:15 Wednesday afternoon his suffering stopped.

I've written ad nauseam about my dad. Bill was his little brother and best friend. I'm so glad Bill was too far away to watch my dad's death and that Dad wasn't here for the last two months. When I was pregnant with my daughter I was thrilled to find out she was a girl, but a part of me was also bummed as I thought about how great it would be to have two little boys if they would be like Dad and Bill (in fact we were going to name her Bill). Years ago there was a television show called Sisters about the relationships and lives of four grown sisters. In one episode the matriarch of the family said that your siblings are the only people you have from the cradle to the grave (paraphrasing). That always stuck with me. Dad and Bill had the ideal relationship most mothers dream of for their children.

Like Dad, Bill was a child of the depression. He went on to serve in Korea and marry Jan, the woman he would remain in love with for the rest of his life. They raised my four cousins whom I also adore. He managed an auto parts warehouse until his retirement, then volunteered at the information desk at the Quad City International Airport and at Arrowhead Ranch, an agency that helps at risk youth. He was a very dedicated member of his church and was truly a light in the world who found ways to glorify God simply by the way he lived his everyday life. So that's the form letter stuff. Here are the memories of him that I cherish.

I can't remember exactly what the gift was, but in spite of being a huge Packers fan (the only kind they make), he gave me some sort of Bears memorabilia as a gift. At the time I didn't fully grasp the rivalry and hadn't thought about it in years, but as I was curled up in the fetal position watching the Superbowl Shuffle on YouTube during the last NFL post-season I remembered that and realized the greater significance.

I remember that he owned very fancy things like one of those stereos you could dub tapes with (someone tell Emma what tapes were). He used it to introduce me to the music of Chet Atkins and Nanci Griffith and the comedy of Steven Wright - all in the same week.

I remember him every time I flip by the Crook and Chase country countdown on the radio.

I remember him when I smell a swimming pool because of all the summer gatherings spent and Bill and Jan's.

I remember that the last time He and Jan visited Washington he made the 4 hour trip to my new home to meet my new husband and child in Northeast Washington. He was already suffering terribly with arthritis, and I could tell when he arrived that he probably shouldn't have made the trip.

I remember the Silvis Country Music festival, Whitey's Ice Cream and Harris Pizza.

I remember that his arthritis caused him to have a really hard time sleeping. He would catch some Zs where ever he could; bed, couch, chair, etc. and joked that he "slept around". The look on my chiropractors face when I used that line a few months ago reminded me of that.

I remember when he called me out of the blue shortly after my dad died on an afternoon that I really needed it. I remember that he ended that call like he always did, by saying "I love ya'."

I remember that he had a running prayer list hundreds of entries long.

I remember a hundred other things that there just aren't words for. But most of all I will remember what every other life he touched will remember, that Bill Dailing had the biggest heart of any man I've ever known.

Goodbye for now, Uncle Billy. I love you too.