Bobrobert's Memorial Service

When I woke up the day after BR's death, I put iTunes on shuffle and hit play, figuring that if I didn't like the song, I could always skip it. The first song it played was Barry Manilow's One Voice. BR often told me how much he loved this song. I tried to sing along, but kept falling apart with tears. I promised myself I would find a way to work it into the memorial service.

A few days later, I decided on two additional pre-recorded songs. The first was Sandi Patty singing Upon This Rock. One of BR's secret guilty pleasures was inspirational religious music, and Sandi Patty was one of his favorite artists.

If in a simple carpenter
You see the Son of God
If you would choose to lose
When you could win
If you would give your life away
For nothing in return
Then you are where
My kingdom will begin.

The second song was To Me, a duet by Lee Greenwood and Barbara Mandrell. I know, not the Barbra most of you were expecting. BR's friend Fran Kinman introduced him to this song long before I met him. While we were dating, it became clear that this was the kind of love he was looking for, and wasn't going to settle for less.

To me
You are the hand that I reach for
When I've lost my way

To me
You are the first star of evening
The sun that warms my day

Just as sure as
I'm sure there's a Heaven
This was meant to be

No road is too long
As long as you belong to me

To me
You are the truth I've been living
Girl, I believe in you

To me
You are the love I have looked for
My whole life through

Just as sure as
I'm sure there's a Heaven
This was meant to be

No road is too long
As long as you belong to me

Just as sure as
I'm sure there's a Heaven
This was meant to be

No road is too long
As long as you belong to me

Reverend Emile was lined up to do the service and scripture readings, and Gail and Mary Katherine to play the prelude and postlude organ and piano. And as the day of the service neared, I realized that I needed to deliver BR's eulogy myself. But no matter how hard I tried, the things I wrote just didn't do justice to the life we shared together. I decided to focus on how he was always able to build and maintain a circle of friends no matter where he was, and on how much he loved those friends. With my sister Cindy by my side for support, I spoke of the dinner parties on Martel Avenue, the ex-boyfriends, and the neighbors -- many of whom were present in the Gilliam United Methodist Church that Saturday.

If I had to pick a message to highlight from Bobrobert's life, it would be to hold the ones you love close and tight, and to never stop looking for people to love.

The service closed with One Voice. I sang the first verse solo.

Just one voice, singing in the darkness
All it takes is one voice
Singing so they hear what's on your mind
And when you look around you'll find

My family joined me for the second verse and bridge.

There's more than one voice
Singing in the darkness
Joining with your one voice
Each and every note another octave
Hands are joined and fears unlocked

If only one voice would start it on its own
We need just one voice, facing the unknown
And then that one voice would never be alone
It takes that one voice

Then we moved out into the congregation, hugging anyone who would have it. Standing in the aisles, we finished the song.

It takes that one voice
Just one voice, singing in the darkness
All it takes is one voice
Shout it out and let it ring
Just one voice, it takes that one voice
And everyone will sing

Simpler days

BR's brother just sent him a tweet...

johnmckellar: @dedesbigboy Amen!!!!! I sometimes long for those simpler days where people were born, lived, and died in same small town.

It got me to wondering ... has globalization done a disservice to the disabled? By encouraging families to become so scattered during good times, does the global economy leave people out on a limb in bad times?

When BR was diagnosed with MS, we were living in San Francisco. That's roughly 2000 miles from his family near Shreveport, Louisiana ...



... and my family near Chicago, Illinois ...



The best families act as life's safety nets. Better than any government health care plan. Better than Meals-on-Wheels and Goodwill and Red Cross Shelters. By encouraging family members to seek their fortune in far off lands, it would appear that we are sacrificing our family safety nets on the gamble that nothing bad will happen while we are away.

But something bad always happens, doesn't it? After all, nobody gets out of this world alive. Be it our parents, our siblings, our partners, or our children, or even the community of friends we've built around us, we are all called upon to give and receive "family" assistance sooner or later.

It's the people who don't have any family that I worry about the most. They are the ones who necessarily end up in the government safety net. They are isolated. Too proud or too sick to ask for meaningful, lasting community assistance. I pray that whatever health care reform comes out of this congress, its primary focus is on the safety and comfort of those who need it most.

As for the rest of us, I pray that we continue to reach out to one another as a community. Give of our resources and talents to support our families. And make a continuing effort to grow those families.

A Memorial Day Prayer

When BR and I lived in San Francisco, I would drive past the Golden Gate National Cemetery on my way to work. Each day I would take note of the large American flag flying near the intersection of interstates 280 and 380. A flag at half staff meant that another soldier had lost his life, most likely in Iraq. Another family shattered. There were months when I never saw the flag reach full staff.

As I passed the cemetery, I would say a brief prayer of thanks to the brave people who make up our volunteer armed forces, and to the families who support them. And most of all, I would pray that our leaders would understand what a great gift a strong military force is -- to be used sparingly in the preservation of our country and its citizens.

There is a lot of evil in this world, much taking the form of people with power operating under selfish motivations. My sincerest hope this Memorial Day is that every US citizen can honor those we have lost to war by upholding the highest of ideals that this country represents. To excel at charity and the humanities, as well as enterprise and sport. To find time to impart expertise, and to learn from experts. And to listen -- really listen -- to the messages that the planet and its people so desperately want us to hear.