Bruce

When we lived South of Boston,  we owned a two family house. It had a small, one bedroom apartment in the back of the second floor. Bruce lived there for 5 years.  Bruce died on Sunday.

Bruce was my friend , a member of our family. He ate dinner at our house 2-3 nights a week. I talked to him everyday. He knew my moods, I knew his. 

Daughter grew up with him. She was 1 when he moved in and 6 when he moved out. She used to say his house "was sticking onto her house".   They had a secret knock they would do when she went to bed. When she was learning to use the potty chair, we made up a song about how everybody poops. Bruce was part of the song.

About 10 years ago there was an car crash at the end of our street. Bruce witnessed it. He stayed with the woman, held her hand and talked to her as she died waiting for ambulance to come. He said he  wanted her last moments on earth to be gentle.  He didn't even know her name.

Bruce is gone. 

How can that be?

I miss him!