Death in Indio

On February 8, 1948, Bob Williams married his sweetheart, the Lebanese-American Lillian Abrams.  My sister Arlene, 9 years old, was the flower girl.  The wedding was held in Indio, and yesterday I attended Bob’s memorial service and Catholic Mass in Indio.  My mom Selma didn’t attend the wedding because she was hugely pregnant with me.  Well, on February 18 I was born, just a month after Mahatma Ghandi was killed in India.  At any rate, Lill (as we called her) became my godmother when I was baptized Catholic a few months later.  Lill and Bob went on to have 8 kids, all younger than me.  So their family was younger than ours.  I had really not kept up with the younger children.  The one closest in age to me who I knew the best was Chris.  He died in his fifties, regrettably from alcoholism and cancer.  Bob Williams was a wonderful guy: gregarious, warm, genuine, and very kind.  He ran a men’s clothing store in Indio for years.

The memorial was a wonderful experience for me.  I connected with some cousins whom I had never met, as our family stopped going to Indio when I was in high school.  At first I was just a stranger who looked like Billy Joel, but when I told them that: 1. My older sister was flower girl at their parents’ wedding 2. Their mom is my Godmother. 3. Our grandmothers were SISTERS, they paid a lot of attention to what I was saying.  The experience meant a lot to me, and I hope it meant a lot to them.  The added bonus was driving there and back (over 6 hours) with my first cousin Linda Williamson.  We shared family history, our pasts, and a wide range of experiences.

I was perhaps most moved by seeing pictures of my late cousin Chris Williams, who died way too young.  I never knew him as an adult, and am sad for that fact.  I’m only happy I could speak with his younger siblings and think about what might have been.  But with the death came the life of new relationships with cousins.  For that I am grateful.