The pain of loss

Several years ago, I was between jobs. The unemployment checks had run out and I didn't know what I was going to do. I was mowing my lawn one sunny June day, after having lost two part time jobs in the space of a week. My son came out to tell me a friend had stopped by.

Jason, a buddy from college, had stopped in to see how I was faring. After we chatted for a while, he suggested I should apply for work at Friendship Community. Friendship is an organization that operates services for people with developmental disabilities. I told him I wasn't sure, but I'd apply anyway since at the time, I was desperate for any work I could get.

I didn't know what to expect. Working with people with disabilities scared me. I thought, "what if they do weird things, like wipe snot on me or something." Despite my misgivings, I was soon hired, and started work on July 21, 2006.

The day I met Bob.

Bob can't have been more than four and a half feet tall. He had a little bald head and a mischievous sparkle in his eye. The first time Bob saw me, he took one look at me, twirled his finger around his ear, pointed at me, then walked away down the hall. We were going to get along just fine.

Bob and I developed a very close bond. At one point, I couldn't get any work done if I was at his house when he got home from his daytime workshop. If he knew I was there, He'd come hunt me down. It got to the point where if I was doing the days shopping and not helping out with the direct care for the evening, I would sometimes park my car up the street so he would not know I was there. 

I loved to hear him laugh. I loved to see him smile. He and I would play games, paint, or just sit and enjoy each others' company, just like normal people.

Bob was my friend.

Bob passed away on Sunday, November 17, 2013. I was there with his family when he died. Standing by his bedside with my guitar, I played "Sunshine on my Shoulders" as he quietly stopped breathing. It was so peaceful. I'm not one for idle fancy, but after he passed, I am certain I saw the shadowy, indistinct figure of a man standing at the head of Bob's bed with open arms.

Bob, I loved you as a brother and I will miss you, but I know that the Father in Heaven has you in His arms now.