Dear Charlie,

I always think of you this time of year. It's almost five years since God brought you from the choir of St. Paul's Hamel to the choir of heaven. Despite the passage of the years, I can never forget your smile and laugh, your funny walk, your gentle and encouraging ways. Whenever I drive by the place in Alhambra where you had your office, I think about stopping in and visiting for a while with you. Just shooting the breeze like we used to. And every once in a while, I pass your Bo on the road and have to do a double take. Goodness, is he ever like you! I am happy to report that there have been no hospital visits for him since you've gone. You remember how he used to break something every other year or so?

I miss seeing Lola, Jess, Vicki and Bo. I think that the Church just held a lot of pain for them because to walk into this room and not be here with you - well, it seemed so wrong. I know you are here with us - for we join all the saints in heaven around the throne. I tried to tell them that, but I don't think I did a very good job.

Whenever we sing "Beautiful Savior" I know you're singing with us and shouting down: "Hey, Weedon, what took you so long to get to this?"

And I can't get out of my head your body that night. Your soul had already fled and there was nothing to be done. But I prayed with your body and I confess, I didn't want to leave it. I just wanted to be with you. I wished I were the Apostle Paul or Peter and could just grab hold of you and bring you back to life. I didn't want to let you go - you were supposed to be playing racketball, dude, so that I wouldn't be the ONLY one that Robert clobbered. We've played some since then, Charlie, but it's never been the same. I think it hurts us both - but we've not really talked about it. We just miss you. You left a gaping hole, my friend.

So I'm always glad when we get to sing in Church and I can "overhear" that voice! And did Robert ever give me a turn on that one with the 150th video. As the camera pans around those gathered around St. Paul's and over the cemetery, the choir is singing "For All the Saints." And YOUR voice is in there. "And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long, steals on the ear the distant triumph song, and hearts are brave again and arms are strong. Alleluia!" And suddenly I'm back to the day we buried you, and your friend Vinnie from up north, walking out the door, shaking his head, saying: "I don't get it; it's like you guys are happy or something." And with tears streaming down our faces we told him we were. As happy as could be, and with hearts breaking at the same time.

Well, I've rambled long enough, but I figured that since I hadn't written you in five years, I really needed to say this to you: Charlie, I love you, buddy. I'm glad to know you're praying for me and for us all. Rest in peace!

Bill