In Loving Memory
1945 — 2024
Husband, Father, Grandfather, Brother, Librarian, and Poet
2021-01-31
She ran away
with the Electrolux Man
he of the stained teeth
the winter tan.
What chance did she have?
Her house would not come clean
not how gripping
his suction seemed.
Hubby trudges in
finds piles of debris
where the coffee
used to be. He flicks on the gas
for a frozen snack
settles before his forty-six
inch TV. He swears at that damn
Dan Rather. Constantly.
The fire brigade arrives
in time for Final Jeopardy.
Bill Leydon
November 24, 1945 — August 25, 2024
Bill passed away peacefully at his home in Dorchester, surrounded by his family. He will be sorely missed by all who were fortunate enough to know and love him.
Bill is survived by his devoted wife of over 50 years, Maureen (Sweeney) Leydon; his son Michael, of whom he was so very proud; his daughter-in-law LeeMarie Kennedy, whom he cherished; and his two grandsons Jack and Charlie, who absolutely lit up his life. He was predeceased by his stillborn sons Kevin and Liam.
Born in Somerville, Massachusetts, Bill became a proud longtime resident of Dorchester upon his marriage. He was the son of the late John and Rose (Shepard) Leydon, and loving brother of Fran, Jack, Bob, Therese, the late Mary, and Eddie. He was also a beloved uncle to many nieces and nephews.
Bill graduated from the University of Massachusetts and Simmons College with a degree in Library Science. He worked as a librarian at the Boston Police Academy, the Library at Logan International Airport, AVCO Everett Research Labs, and as the Assistant Director of the Hingham Public Library. He was also a sales representative for the New England Mobile Book Fair.
Bill was a talented poet whose work was published in several anthologies, as well as his own collections. He was quietly pleased to be offered a fellowship to the prestigious MacDowell Artist Colony. He celebrated or despaired depending on the Boston Red Sox standings, was an avid movie buff, and enjoyed travel until his health declined. In later years, Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy were a nightly ritual where Bill celebrated the participants' wins like they were his own. Bill loved people, dogs, and birds, and they were all better for his kind attention.
"We celebrate those who have gone before, making smooth our paths. We are in sorrow for their passing, but know we will see them shortly; we will triumph over death and be happy once again."