My Favorite Uncle Bill

Do you know, that I remember, oh, many years back,
A family get-together, headed by Virginia and Jack.
I heard the family whisper, "Do you think that he will show?"
I didn't have a doubt, I said, "He'll show; I know."

I had childish faith then, I was but a little girl,
I didn't know disappointment,
I wasn't wise in the way of the world.

But there was one thing I knew then, just as I know still,
You can always count on, my favorite Uncle Bill.

While others didn't notice, he paid attention then,
He watched me grow up, he always stayed my friend.
And then there came the day, that I will never forget,
I found approval in his eyes, and, yes, I think, respect.

Oh, I know that he liked me, and I know that he cared,
But I wanted to be like him, and I just didn't dare.
But came the day I wanted, the chance I had to take,
Not really for him, but for my own sake.

My little brother's wedding, I walk into the barn,
I see the beer fridge ready, a beer in every arm.
I reach out my hand, and take my own beer,
Tilt it up hard, and drain it down clear.

I toss it in the can, with a loud banging crash,
And I watch as his eyes, move from me to the trash.
"You finished already?" he asks with a smile,
And he tilts his as well, and finishes in style.

Now I'm filled with such pride, that I'm ready to burst,
Because, you see, I did it, I finished mine first!

And even over the years, though I have moved away,
He's always been a good friend, as forever he will stay.
I guess I've always known, that if ever there's a need,
I could come to his home, and his advice I could heed.

And now that he's away, and things are getting rough,
I know my Uncle Bill, he's really getting tough.

He's fighting this disease, with a new heart of his own,
And he's counting down the days, and missing his home.
But soon he'll be released, and he'll get to travel home,
And he'll probably forget my silly little poem.

But there's one thing I know now, and I know I always will,
You can always count on, My Favorite Uncle Bill.

written by Jami S. Bell
© 1991

This poem was written for William R. Stillion who had a heart transplant on Oct. 8, 1991 at Presbyterian University Hospital, Pittsburgh, Pa.