You were never to be ignored. Standing tall with a voice of soft, deep bass. As a child, its tone used to bring me fear, a voice so deep it ran down my spine and shook me to my core with every word. But over time, I began to stop and listen further. Your voice was a melody, which seemed to come in waves of softness, a soothing ocean of words, with each one flowing from a place of silence and peace. A calm in its motion that comforted, protected, and washed over us with love.

 

This is not to say that you were passive.  No, you were not by far.  You were largely immovable in your beliefs and it took a level of jujitsu mind mastery and will to negotiate with you.  More-so, because you were able to seemingly pacify your opponent into believing that you were going along with what was proposed, that you were with the flow of things, all the while adhering to your own plans and ideals.  What was even more surprising is that your opponents would believe that they were the victors in their negotiation and they were shocked at the ultimate outcome.  This quality was a powerful tool that I have yet to see in others.  Rather than direct combat, you conquered your verbal opponents with a seeming passivity that made people believe that they were in control, when you were always in the lead.

 

And you may not have believed it, but, you were a top chef.  The aromas used to soar through the air of fried fish, crab, and calamari.  The sizzle from the pan in the kitchen, and the gentle but firm warning that you would give us before we ran through the kitchen door, “careful, careful”. I would run away with glee at the happiness of it, the pop of the grease and the sorting of sweet okra and tomatoes, feeling the fish oil soaked paper towels and licking the crumbs off of my fork.  Uncle Bob, you made the best food.  I would imagine you having your own restaurant and spreading joy with your culinary skills to people everywhere.  Over the years, I was able to talk you up to my son, who on return from your house said the same thing, “Uncle Bob makes the best food”. 

 

As a foodie, savoring your fabulous dishes was tantamount to my communion.  There was a pause in eating where I seemingly communed with the gods, inhaled all the aromas which sent me to blissful ecstasy.  It was a profound experience that should have been available to all.  It will truly be missed.  But, this was you. You had learned from Wilhelmina and Robert Sr.  The zip of the knife across those fish skins, the puff of flour on the tray accompanied by the lightest aromas that hugged the taste buds and conveyed a profound feeling of love.

 

As a girl, I used to run to you and give hugs in the depths of your voice, you would bend down so gently and return the favor.  But, as I grew older, I became more demure, toiling in puberty and young adulthood.  I would still feel your love at a distance, able to see you in all of your glory with acceptance and patience.  It was at times of deep sadness that you especially saw me and knew my pain.  Though it was not loud nor overt, I learned that you dwelled in the silence of observation and knowing.  You would simply look into my eyes and say words that soothed my soul, uplifted me out of my darkness, and let me know that you knew me.  You have no idea how freeing it was to be seen by you, to be respected and loved.  You made me so proud.

 

You were an ocean, Uncle Bob.  Copiously strong and unassuming, you changed the landscapes of people’s souls.  It was a gradual process and they themselves may not have recognized your enduring strength.  Even in your final days, I understood the power of your unwavering tenacity.  To never give up, to continue on, even as your body slowly failed you,  you stared straight into the crashing tides and refused to give up the fight.  You sailed on. 

 

And now we remain.  Forever changed and left on that shore, examining how much our lives have been molded by your presence, your love.  I will always love you and will continue to find expressions of you in the roar of the waves, in every smile, and occasionally in a sublime piece of fried fish.