Jane Bird

{Those who know me know I’m “photophobic.”  So, I had to include a picture of myself from much younger (and thinner!) days.} 

Since Roy was always at least six inches taller than I and almost 10 years older, he has always been my “big brother.”  I’m certain Roy and our brother Glenn were not thrilled to have a little sister when they were 9 and 8 years old, respectively.  We lived in a small, two-bedroom house in Springville, and my arrival meant Roy and Glenn were “banished” from the second bedroom upstairs to the basement.  To keep me from going in their basement bedroom, they told me the “boogeyman” also lived down there.  That created a fear of basements for me that lingers to an extent even today.

Our parents (very foolishly) often left me with Roy and Glenn as my babysitters.  My brothers liked to tease me unmercifully.  One time, Roy put me down for a nap after a “torture session” and, after I fell asleep, he woke me to tell me I’d had a bad dream so I wouldn’t tell Mom and Dad what he and Glenn had done to me.  When I was six years old, Mom and Dad got us a cat that I named Ginger.  I joined Roy and Glenn in tormenting the cat.  I used to apologize to her all the time, saying, “I’m sorry—it’s either you or me.”

My relationship with Roy began to change when my parents and I moved to St. George in 1971.  Roy had recently married Penny, and they moved to St. George also so Roy could make some “big money” working on road construction with our dad.  I took both geometry and trigonometry as a sophomore at Dixie High.  Math has never been my “thing,” and Roy spent many evening hours trying to help me “get it.”  Fortunately for both of us, I gave up math after my sophomore year.

My love of English pre-dates Roy’s:  I began taking advanced English classes in 6^th grade.  When I started my undergraduate days at Brigham Young University, Roy again acted as a mentor and counselor for me.  I started out as a business major but switched in my second semester to English.  Roy was teaching at BYU at that time, and he was great about telling me the best teachers and classes to take—and the ones to avoid.  Roy never wrote a paper for me, but he spent lots of time “holding my hand” when I had a writing assignment.  He’d ask me what I was supposed to do and what I intended to write.  After I told him, he’d say, “That sounds great.  Do it!”  I graduated summa cum laude with a B.A. in English, and I felt Roy had been by my side as counselor and cheerleader the whole time.

I studied for my Juris Doctor degree at the University of Utah at the same time Roy was getting his Ph.D. at Rice University.  We’d write letters to each other, but I missed the frequent “hand holding” Roy had given me when I was a student at BYU.  I was happy Roy was able to at least attend my (boring) graduation ceremonies with me.

I have worked for almost 28 years as General Counsel for the Upper Colorado River Commission.  Over all those years, Roy was a great sounding board for me, listening to me whine about co-workers, work assignments and the daily grind.  I was dragged kicking and screaming into the computer age, but once I finally got an e-mail address, Roy and I started corresponding on an almost-daily basis.  Our mother sometimes complained that we wrote “too much,” but I never felt that way.  Even though I haven’t actually seen Roy since 2006, I felt we “talked” every day.  I heard from Roy for the last time last Wednesday, August 12.  I miss those daily missives so much already.

My biggest regret is that Roy’s grandchildren, grandnieces and grandnephews won’t get to know Roy.  Roy had a brilliant mind, but that was one of his lesser gifts.  He sometimes hid a tender heart behind a gruff manner and a love of heated discussions, but I never doubted his love for me.  Helping his students was Roy’s pride and joy, and he was an immeasurable help and support to me as well.  Roy’s death leaves a hole in my life it will be impossible to fill.

See you later, big brother!