I would like to reflect on the life my brother and I shared. Those special times that are unique to brothers, secrets that are shared, diabolical schemes plotted out by two giggling kids, and of course the love of sports . Baseball especially. We were baseball nuts. During the summer we would practice from 9 a.m till noon, break for lunch, back at it until 5p.m and after supper we would play ball until dark. Bill played third base on our little league team and I played shortstop. We won our regional championship one year, and back then , before the NFL would start the season, a game was played every year at Soldier Field between the reigning NFL champions and the best college players in the country, and as a reward for our champion season we got to attend the game. Those were great times, those were our Glory Days. I guess we peaked early.

Anyone who knew Bill also knows how much he loved to fish. Fishing was also a big part of our lives together. My grandfather had a small home on Bluff Lake in Antioch and we would fish all year round, but we also spent our times together building snow forts , playing hockey and basketball, setting up our own Olympic events, sneaking an occasional cigarette in the near by woods, pulling off some Halloween antics that may or may not have included fireworks or over ripe fruit and vegetables. And a host of adventures I will forever remember.

Bill was both my tormentor and protector. He picked on me incessantly but God help anyone else who attempted it. I imagine he believed as the first born that this was his inherent birthright.

We had a love/hate relationship. He loved telling me what to do, and I hated saying no. One time when we were pre teens we both got in trouble for something, I can't remember what it was but it was serious enough that a spanking was in order. During dad's investigation and subsequent interrogation of the crime, he surmised that Bill had been the mastermind and had in fact forced me to be complicit in it. Dad thought that by threatening to spank me first that it might compell Bill to fess up. He did not. So I received my spanking and then it was Bill's turn. I remember Bill's eyes welling up, to this day, I'm not sure if they were real or manufactured and he begged dad not to spank him. Dad looked at him and said , "Would you rather have your brother take your spanking for you? Bill turned to me and said Would you? and of course I said yes. I think my dad just shook his head in disbelief and futility, gave Bill his dues and we were set free to earn, at some point yet another inevitable spanking . This is the Bill I will remember this the the brother that I will miss very much.

Bill had an unshakeable faith in God and an unquestionable devotion to the church, so I know Bill is prepared and ready to meet the Lord. Whether the Lord is prepared for the experience however is another matter.

But let me say something that I learned while writing this eulogy. It was kind of an epiphany but shouldn't have been. Later in life Bill and I would tell each other how much we loved each other, and looked back fondly on our childhood and all the good times we had, but reflecting on it now it could have, should have been sooner and more often.

There’s something about death that forces the poet in us to the surface. When we lose someone we love, we suddenly feel free to speak beautiful, flowery sentiments of gratitude, affection, and admiration; words that we’d kept bottled-up for years; words the other person had probably been waiting way too long to hear.

And when we’re finally ready to say them, they are not with us to hear them.

Life can be shockingly mundane, and that monotony has a way of tricking us; of lulling us into believing that we have as much time as we need with people. That feeling sedates us just enough, so that we rarely feel the urgency of fully expressing our hearts to those we love.

And then, when we have someone's life pulled out from under us, things suddenly feel pretty urgent.

In the moments and months following the loss of someone we love, most of us will get hit by the flood of every unspoken thought, every withheld word, every undelivered expression of love and we would love to have just a few precious seconds back so that we can say all that we never said; all that we should have said. Time becomes something invaluable.

So eulogies are really wonderful things, they’re just usually really poorly timed.

We like to say that people are “late” after they’ve passed away, but the truth is that our words are often late too. They’re often too late to change the path of a life while it’s being lived, too late to bring restoration to a broken-hearted soul while still in its body, and too late to give someone wings while their feet still touch the ground.

Bill's passing should remind us to give people living eulogies; that we should speak these, unashamed words of love and praise, and forgiveness not after they’re gone, but to them while we can.

Because the truth is, when it comes to the people you love, as impossible as it may be to imagine, one day you won’t get to choose.

One day you’ll pick-up the phone to call them, and then you’ll catch yourself and remember; and put it back down.

One day you’ll want to sit across from them and say everything you never said but should have; and the chair will be empty.

One day you’ll speak every life-giving, grateful, love-drenched word; and you’ll do it to a head stone, or a casket.

Friends, there are people around you who need to see the full content of your heart, now. They deserve the blessing of knowing that they matter, today.

Realize that time is startlingly short.

Give eulogies to the living.

Memorialize them face-to-face.

Speak all the words of love, to those you love.

Say everything, while they can still hear.

My suggestion to you all of you here today When you summon up the memory of my brother say four things to him: ‘Thank you, I am sorry, I forgive you , and I love you. And then take a moment or two to just ponder every one of those brief utterances.