Bob built things for my son, his grandson. He built cars out of pipes and things laying around his workshop.
We had adventures with Bob. We met in Turkey, traveled around Italy, ate lots of gelato together, and talked about books we’d read or movies we’d seen.
We went on weekend trips to different cities and seaside towns, to beaches and mountains around California. We traveled to DC and Virginia and other places together.
We played games and hung out and did jigsaw puzzles till late at night, and we all laughed and joked a lot. We named a part of one of our favorite games “The Bob” because he loved to play that part of the game.
We were like a group of friends, the five of us, and we were all happy and cozy together.
When we were done, I would often go to sleep or wash up, but Genee, Tina and Bob would talk and talk, about this and that, sometimes they’d get caught up in a new project then and there.
Bob was very smart, very funny, and his mind worked different.
He struggled too, with his health, with depression and anger, with autism and social demands, but he did good.
He helped build our house and make it a home, and it’s a beautiful home thanks to him. He even built a little house for Tayga, in the backyard, and we all take turns hanging out there sometimes when we just need a moment.
He was great with his hands, and he had great big graceful hands. But sometimes he was clumsy.
The last time I saw him, he was in the ICU at UCSF. He didn’t like the curtains, said it reminded him of the Iron Curtain, and we laughed. He said he was so happy all his family came to see him, his brothers and sister, his kids and grandkids, nephews and nieces. His wife was always there beside him, day after day.
He cried because his grandson, my son, was struggling, and he hoped things would be better. He loved him very much. We held hands and exchanged I Love Yous as it rained outside.
A few days later, the rain ended. It was beautiful and bright in San Francisco, and he died at sunset.
