I remember when we went to Butte for Grandpa Fritz’s funeral, I went with Dad and Uncle Bill to see Paul’s grave. Bill had made a frame of 2×4’s, painted it white and put it the ground to mark Paul’s grave.It was very sad, and now apparently it’s gone back to the earth. But I remember as I was learning about death as a 5-year old, I took comfort from the notion that if I died, my brother would welcome me to the next life. Paul is gone but not forgotten.
Thanks for sharing these memories Dad! I mentioned this tonight and Noah said he never knew you had a baby brother named Paul. Life has many tragedies but all the same I am glad that we are all here together. I am posting this as I listen to your two grandsons giggle as their Daddy reads them a bedtime story. Hopefully we can read them some family stories in time … this is their history, too! Much love, Steph