Saturday, February 15, 2014

It Happens

My wife Christine and her Papa Bob
Sitting in a hotel room hoping a flight opens up is not a fun way to spend a Saturday night.

The plan was to be on a plane at 3pm to make it home in time to run my first 26.2 in the morning, but fate, or at least the weather, had other plans. A snowstorm hit the East Coast today, stranding my wife and I to another night away from home. And honestly, as disappointed as I am that I trained for this for the past 7+ months, it really doesn't matter.

The reason we're snowbound in a hotel room some 2,600 away from home is because my wife lost her father this past Tuesday and he was buried today.

We had planned a surprise visit for his 81st birthday on this coming Wednesday but Bob worked on his own schedule.

Bob was just an ordinary guy from Boston; father, a grandfather, a vet, a pipefitter and a recovering alcoholic. Bob may not have been know to many but those of us who did know him, as well as those who have heard stories about Bobisms know what a loss this is. Bob was a great guy that touched may people's lives.

I had the pleasure of knowing him for the past 30 years and will miss being harangued by him about not getting out to the shooting range, hearing his views on a politics (the Kennedy's were a bunch of assholes) or hearing some hilarious story about how he defeated the Nazis at Waterloo with a pocketknife and some fireworks (MacGyver eat your heart out). Bob was also an exceptional shot with his 1920 something, restored Parker shotgun, often besting younger shooters with more modern arms, at his gun club.

Bob always kept you guessing.

Many of the people who came to pay their respects may have never met Bob, but they all knew him well.

The World's Most Interesting Man had nothing on Bob and we will all miss him dearly.

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