A Life Well-Lived
|Tony (l) and my dad (r) , about 1950 or so.|
When we were kids, he was just Tony. He was too cool to be an "Uncle" but by the time my kids came along, he liked being called Uncle Tony. In time though, he made up his own moniker. He referred to himself as my dad's Big Bro AND our Uncle Toe. Henceforth, he would like to be called "Big Toe."
Now he's gone. Pancreatic cancer is a swift killer. He started feeling ill around Christmas, and went into the hospital in January, and now we've said good bye. It wasn't a very long time, really. He would have been 75 in June.