A man who I considered a friend is no longer on this earth. He died last night after a short but brave battle with cancer. He is the very first person I knew who was my age to die. Strange.
In his wake, he leaves behind many people who love him. People who will always love him and mourn him for a very long time. Ross Robertson is not a person who you quickly forget.
I remember the first time I met him, a young handsome man with a devilish smile and a wicked sense of humour. He fell in love and married my best friend and I was lucky to know him for a time. He raised my friends daughter, my beautiful god daughter, like she was his own. He loved her fiercely and completely, regardless of DNA. She felt the same way. My heart aches for her and her pain today.
He was self taught musically and could play any song on any instrument just by ear. He made up funny songs that made you laugh and leave you waiting for the next lyrical jingle he would create. He loved his family and friends. He loved to spend time in the garage ‘tinkering’ with his sleds. Marc spent hours in there with him when we visited, we knew there wasn’t a lot of tinkering going on, just beer drinking and laughing, but I know Marc is happy to have those memories of a man he considered his friend.
Sadly, their marriage ended about 2 years ago. It ended as amicably as it could have and with respect for one another but, as often with failed marriages, you leave with the person who was your friend prior to that relationship. I haven’t seen or spoken to Ross in that time. Not because I wanted the friendship to end, but because it was just awkward and strange for us to continue it. Neither of us knew how to maintain a friendship with so much baggage, so we let it go. Now, I am wishing I had just one moment back to tell him what a wonderful person he was. How amazing I think he is for taking in that little girl 16 years ago and loving her the way he did. Regardless of his faults, which we all have as human beings, I am grateful to him for the laughter and friendship we had. I am grateful for the memories of the weekends spent at his camp around the campfire. He always welcomed us with a drink and a smile. We never felt unwanted or uninvited in his home. There was always room. I am grateful to him for letting me be such a big part of his wedding day. It was beautiful and we danced under the stars that night. Regardless of how it all ended it started with nothing but love.
This is my goodbye and although you may never know it, I wish I had reached out to you 2 years ago to let you know I still thought of you as a friend. Life is full of regrets, this is one of mine.
May they have beer and guitars in heaven and may you always know peace.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Couldn't have said it better myself.
There's a lot I will miss about "The Rose", and only wish, like you, that I had one more chance to let him know how much our friendship meant.
Drinking, dancing, and listening to Cake on top of his roof.
Late night snowmobile trips.
Playing horseshoes at the camp.
Hungover trips to Tim Hortons.
Everytime we came up to visit, you were the big brother I never had. Yes, there were some things we did that, looking back, seemed a bit reckless, but for what it's worth, I always felt safe doing it because you always had a way of making people feel like as long as they were with you, you would never let anything bad happen.
There wasn't much you couldn't do, and that always amazed me. Whether it was building something, fixing something, or playing something - you seemed to make it look effortless.
I remember on my wedding day, you and Sherry showing up in the afternoon. It was hot, I was out on the front lawn of the Glen House looking over the water, and you came up, pulled a cold can of beer out of the cooler, and we sat and laughed on that very memorable day, into the night, and even the next morning!
I believe that last time we really hung out together as a foursome was at the Neil Diamond concert in Ottawa. Man, there was some good laughs, a lot of singing and dancing...as always, a great time.
Things didn't work out in the end with you and Sherry, and sadly, it meant we didn't keep in touch. Looking back, maybe we should have, but at least today, I've got tremendous memories that we spent together, and I only hope that you're happy again on that big Italian Leather Sofa in the sky.
I'll miss you Rose.
Post a Comment