It has been a year of death. Birth too, thank goodness, but more people that I know have died this year than in all of my previous years combined. On Sunday, my Uncle Bill left us forever, and without any warning except a premonition that I had at our last visit in September. This death has hit me harder than all the others, partially due to its suddenness and partially because I knew and loved this man my whole life.
How to describe Uncle Bill? He was so many different things to different people. This is what I observed: Fiercely independent, committed to living life his way, for better or for worse. Although he lived alone his whole life, and could be gruff and ornery, he deeply cared for other people, especially those who were at some sort of disadvantage. Walking with him around the tiny coastal town of Pescadero, his adopted home for the last 50 years, he seemed to know everyone we ran into. Most knew him as the school bus driver, but he also regularly drove members of the large immigrant farm worker community to meals, church, wherever they needed to go.
Bill also loved and cared for animals, wild and domestic, especially his dear departed cat, Bobcat. All animals that he encountered gravitated towards his gentle nature. He knew how to be still and connect with them.
He was intensely spiritual, and studied energetic healing for a time. In his youth, he was apparently something of a hippie, studying art at UC Berkeley, riding his bicycle all over California and beyond, and attending Rainbow Gatherings. I learned about these days on the walks we used to take together around Pescadero and down Old Stage Road. Bill could talk your ear off, especially about family history or his philosophical theories, or he could be silent for hours, depending on the situation. At most family gatherings, he would sit quietly except to come up with simply awful puns every once in a while. When I think of him now, I see his eyes twinkling. He wasn't exactly mischievous, but he found the humor in situations.
My cousins and I remember him most for his infamously bizarre gifts. He was extremely generous with all three of us, but we were always surprised by what he would present to us. Our "uncle bill gifts" were always memorable. They were consistently accompanied by a rambling, heartfelt, always poetic note in his elaborate curly cue handwriting. The writing frequently took up the whole card, and beyond, and the content was often as confusing as the gift.
I am sure others have very different impressions of Bill -- these thoughts are just my experience of him. I still can't believe he is gone, and will be processing this loss for a while. There is a hole in my life now.
Fortunately, I have a very tangible reminder that not only does life go on, life is happening Right Now. Her name is Karolina, and she will be one month old tomorrow. I will be sure to tell her stories about her great uncle Bill when she is old enough to understand them.
And just for comparison...here is Peter at one month old. Yep, they are definitely related. And definitely Kosinas.
