There is an advantage to coming from a family where both sides are big Irish Catholic broods (not the 10-12 children of my grandparents’ generation, but 5 on my dad’s side and 6 on my mom’s). At holidays there were always family get togethers, lots of cousins and aunts and uncles. Many of my characters were born somewhere in the late night discussions and debates that occurred around the holiday dinner table.

But there is a downside to a big family, too, I’m finding. Today we say goodbye to my mother’s oldest brother, William (though everyone called him Billy). He was one of the remaining uncles from my dwindling supply — I have two left of the five blood uncles who made my childhood years memorable. I have 2 uncles-by-marriage left of the original four. In the last five years I’ve said goodbye to four uncles and my father.

Uncle Billy was my mother’s oldest brother, and they looked uncannily alike. He was tall and skinny and always smiling in a shy and gentle way. He wasn’t boisterous like most of my other uncles, but the kindness radiated from him no matter what he was doing. He grew up in Queens and moved to Long Island, which is where I remember visiting him with my family. His home was always open to family passing through. When dh was considering Stony Brook for grad school, we stayed with Uncle Billy and Aunt Chris to check out the school.

Thanks for the kindnesses all through the years, Uncle Billy. You will be missed.