The Death of a Friend

Like a lot of kids growing up, I was raised in a one parent household. My parents divorced before I was even three years old after my father's struggles with addiction became too much for my mother and young brother to bear. To my old man's credit, he did a fantastic job of pulling himself from the temptuous grip of alcohol and getting his life on track and was later involved in many parts of our adolescent life. However, during my High School years there is no doubt that I was always seeking "father figures", be it in the form of teachers or friends parents, etc. One such Individual was Bill Roberts, the father of probably my closest friends in High School, Chris Roberts. Chris also grew up with just one parent as his mother had passed away years earlier, and his father was a hard working, fun-loving and intriguing guy that many of us grew to love.

During High School, while we're all so desperate to fit in and make sense of the chemical and physical changes our bodies are going through, it's no shock that we'd likely gravitate to a "cool", strong willed guy who was not only accepting of his son's friends but would often sit down with them, have a beer and tell some incredible stories. Bill Roberts was just that guy. While not real tall, and seemingly not overwhelming physically, all of us still knew he could beat our ass if we pushed him, though none of us ever did. He would come home from a night out with friends or a girlfriend and often sit down with us troublemakers and let us know who was really the boss of the house he so thoughtfully opened up to just about anyone (I basically lived there for a good part of my high school years). At the same time, he'd have you laughing so hard at a story he'd tell you, and many times have told before, that you never felt anything but adoration for the big-hearted guy. I know Chris loved him as strong as any child would his father, and I am sure it made him happy that so many of his friends worshiped his old man as well, and who wouldn't? I know there was at least ten times I ate far too much of the Chicken Cordon Bleu and Filets he stocked in his fridge, but he never yelled, never screamed, he just came up with some wise ass comment making you feel like a schmo for not asking first or not replacing it later. Then a couple days later he'd be offering up that same gourmet chow to you at his pleasure. Bill Roberts was all heart, man.

As years went on and I moved a little father away and some of us grew apart, I lost touch with Bill and sometimes with Chris. One way or another Chris and I would reconnect but I rarely got to see his father, and that's really too bad. The times I did, usually on the Golf Course, it was like 1987 all over again, with him as sharp as ever, cracking a joke or assessing your swing or just busting your ass for finding you on his floor with a certain Sophomore and a bottle of his Whiskey twenty years earlier. It was always great to see him, and I really wished I had a chance to do that more often before his recent passing.

In the years since High School, even with us not being able to hang out and talk as much as we used to, I have always been more fond of Chris than probably anyone I had ever known. Like me, he has had his struggles with various demons but always manages to keep his head above water and come out on top. In all my years I have never known anyone that not only had one of the biggest hearts I have ever encountered, but who also busted their ass working labor-intensive jobs six days a week. I have to think this partially comes from his father, but Chris has certainly added his own flavor to what I have always felt was one of the best personalities of any guy I have ever been friends with. Bill raised a hell of a kid and one who I will always love and respect.

Tomorrow will be the day we all pay respects to Bill, and I am sure there will be stories told and laughs had and beers drank and tears shed. Bill Roberts was an infectious personality who knew how to work a room and make friends quick and he will be sorely missed. It brings into light the fears/anxiety of my own parents mortality and the need to enjoy and appreciate those relationships as much as possible. I know Chris spent a great deal of time with Bill before he passed away and I am sure is glad that he did. I hope that going forward he understands how much his father meant not only to him, but to so many of his friends.

Heaven is a better place than it was now that he's made the trip.