I met Robert and his dear husband Roy Fisher when I joined GriefShare group at Highland Park United Methodist Church. None of us wanted to be in that group and I acted out every meeting to prove it. One night as we adjourned, 6’4” Robert stood up, leaned down in my face and said, “You are a joyful person. Bob knows you as a joyful person. Be the joyful person Bob knows.” I thought about hurting him, but felt the invisible prickly quills sticking out of me begin to fall off as he enclosed me in a bear hug.
Robert, a kind, fun, quirky, clairvoyant and I became late night phone buddies when I moved to Santa Fe. Late one night I was walking Katie Belle wondering what on earth I’d done uprooting us when I heard Robert say, “You are a joyful person.” I looked around, sure he was right there. I called him and he said, “Of course! I was thinking of you and telling you to enjoy this adventure, then come home to us.” OK, but use the phone Robert! Stop scaring me in the middle of the night outside with your booming voice.
On this evening's sunset walk Katie Bell and I looked for the heart in the clouds Bob sends us daily. We saw two big fluffy orangish pink ones touching side by side. Bob was greeting Robert, bear hugs all around.
I had the gift of Robert two years, the gift of my Bob 42 years. Not long enough. But oh, what gifts they were and are - always.
Dear Robert, Good night sweet prince: And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!