Ever since I heard about what happened I’ve been missing Joe. And I know I’m going to keep on missing him. But just to get through this, I’m going to turn the phrasing around and say, "What did we all get during the 62 years Joe was with us." I have never met a more naturally joyful person than Joe. Like everyone else he had chores and setbacks in his life, but all I ever saw was his enthusiasm, and that sly, knowing sense of humor that said most things were not worth getting all worked up about. When Joe wasn’t working, he knew how to have a good time and made you want to share it with him: bocci ball, gin rummy, climbing, hiking, camping, traveling, birdwatching, guitar playing and his music. Joseph was always a nurturing, caretaking personality. There’s a childhood photo that’s famous within the family that shows a young Joe corralling all his siblings against the wall. Our parents told Joe to “take care of his brothers and sisters” and this was the best way young Joe knew how to do it. He was a mentor and guide to each of his brothers and sisters. And being one of the first born children on both the Brophy and Giroux sides of the family, there were lots of cousins who felt the same way. They always wanted to know, “what’s Joe think?…” “what’s Joe want to do?…” In later years, on our “brother” hikes, all I remember Joe doing is taking care of the rest of us: organizing the trip, selecting the trail, planning the campfire meals and cooking them. On the last hike I shared with Joe this summer, he hiked right behind me all the way back. I was always out of shape for these hikes. He was making sure I was okay. Joe was an adventurer from the get go. There’s a childhood story about Joe taking a trip around the block with his wagon. He had a jar of peanut butter and bread for making sandwiches. He came back covered head to toe covered in peanut butter. Some older kids had gotten a hold of him. We teased him endlessly about that. Joe kept right on traveling: Peru, Africa, Egypt, Mexico, Newfoundland, most of the states of the union. He wanted to see it all with his own eyes and experience it for himself. He didn’t want to read about life. He wanted to live it. No two people loved each more than Joe and Rhea. All you have to do is look at the photographs. When I was with them it was as obvious to me as daylight. And then they chose to share that love with two wonderful daughters, Raquel and Lucia. What better life could a person hope for? Joe’s generous spirit touched a lot of people. I’m grateful I got a chance to know him--privileged to call Joe my brother, and I loved him. He’s in my mind and my heart and I know he’ll be there for the rest of my life. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Don