My Uncle Boyd

This is my Uncle Boyd, or Myron Boyd Kroll as he was legally known. He was married to my mother's older sister, Dorothy. They were married for 62 years--longer than anyone in our family that I know of. He died Friday, September 24th in Boise, Idaho. He was my last living maternal uncle. He lived a good, long life; longer than most. He lived long enough to get old, frail, and nearly blind and crippled by arthritis. That isn't really how I remember my Uncle Boyd. I love that his kids picked this picture to remember him. It is how I remember him. I saw him many times dressed in his Navy uniform. He served 34 years and retired sometime after I graduated from college.

Uncle Boyd was born on June 5, 1921 in Rigby, Idaho. His parents were Carl Martin Kroll and Mary Jane Thomas Kroll. He was raised in Rigby, Idaho, the same little town as my dad was raised in. He and my brother Lynn shared a birthday. I have at least one photo of my brother Lynn and Uncle Boyd and the birthday cake they shared.

He married my Aunt Dorothy on January 31, 1942. She was the love of his life. She died on September 25, 2004. One of my cousins noted that he died on September 24, this year, one day before the sixth anniversary of Aunt Dorothy's death. They felt he just didn't want to have to live past that date again.

My Uncle Boyd and Aunt Dorothy had three children: Wayne, Pat and Kay. Their legal names are much longer, but not the way I know them, either. For years now, sad to say, I have really only seen these cousins at the various family funerals. I won't be able to attend Uncle Boyd's funeral this Friday. I did send off a request to the Rose Shop in Idaho Falls to take a flower bowl with a patriotic ribbon to the funeral home on Friday. I hope my cousins know I am thinking of them, and love them.

I doubt any of my children remember my Uncle Boyd. That makes me very sad. It is one of the reasons that I wrote this post, as when they get into family history, even if I am gone, there will be a little information about this special man for them. He was a wonderfully, talented machinist. A bobbin part broke off of our family sewing machine, and we were unable to get a part. We didn't have the money for a new sewing machine, either. He took the part and made a new piece for the machine. We took it into the repair shop, and the repairman asked where in the world we had gotten the new piece--as it slid right into place--taking no time at all to repair. He was so amazed he forgot to charge us. (That was a blessing, too., as stated, money was really tight.)

I remember him being in attendance at many of the family parties held at my Aunt Donna's house 40-45 years ago in Ucon, ID. Thinking of him also brings to mind many, many other family members, who have long since passed on. I feel pretty nostalgic for times' past. My youth is long gone, but I am thankful for the many loving family members that have sweetened my life with the goodness of theirs.