|Dale with yours truly (far right) and our sister, back in happy times|
A week ago today my dear brother, Dale, passed away at the much-too-young age of 59. He was a kind and gentle soul who suffered from mental illness and the mental and physical ravages of the dozen-plus daily medications required to keep his illness under control. Dale was robbed of a normal life so there will be no lengthy obituary extolling his accomplishments or recounting his life and career. I can just tell you that although he never had much he would share his last dollar with a hungry stranger or give away his only winter coat to someone else who was cold. I should be so lucky as to have the heart and character that Dale possessed.
Rest in peace at last, big brother. You will be sorely missed.
See also The Pesky Truth.