Reflecting

The last few days have been incredibly emotional for me. A man who was very influential during my college years passed away suddenly. Not just suddenly, but in a shocking, rug-pulled-from-under-you manner. His name was Rob. Rob began battling colon cancer last September. On July 6, I received a message that he was declared “cancer free”. We all rejoiced that the worst was behind Rob. Two days later, he suffered a massive heart attack that he never recovered from. Devastating.

Image courtesy lambertwm via Flickr

I met Rob in January 1997. It was a cold dreary day, which made the 200 mile drive to St. Louis all the more difficult. I was a senior in high school interviewing for one of the college’s top scholarships. It was important. I was the oldest of three girls. In my mind, I bore the responsibility of a debt-free secondary education to ensure we all had the opportunity to go to college. Rob was one of three on the interview panel that day.

At the time, I was full of pride. One of the top in my class, a huge list of extra-curricular activities. The ideal college candidate. I’m sure I wore that pride like a fur coat. I finished the interview, got lost in the “big city” with my parents, and returned home. A few days or weeks later, I got the call that I received the scholarship.

What I didn’t know for months or maybe even years was that it wasn’t an easy choice for the scholarship committee. Much later, after I was already enrolled and established at the college, someone shared with me that Rob had lobbied for me. He saw something in me the others couldn’t that day, probably due to my own immaturity and pride. But Rob saw my potential, as an alum, he saw things that he knew would make this college a good fit for me. Rob was right.

The small size of the college cultivated relationships. Rob, and many others at the college, poured themselves into our lives. He wasn’t just another employee. I was blessed to work with him on several teams and projects. I have one very clear, fond memory of a day spent in Rob’s home. His children were young at the time, about the ages of my children now. I recall sitting surrounded by toys in the playroom of his home as the group ate, laughed and planned our next steps.

During college, I lost a dear friend to leukemia; met my husband and even managed to learn a few things in class. Four years of ups and downs, good and bad, laughter and tears produced a different person than the girl visiting the campus that blustery January day. I owe much of that to Rob’s persistance. Sure, I might have landed there without him, but I never had to walk that path.

It’s interesting to mourn in this era of Facebook. It’s amazing to see tangible evidence of his influence. Despite the many different capacities on the campus he served over the years, the words remain the same. “I wouldn’t be where I was today without Rob’s work, advice, etc.” “I never saw Rob without a smile on his face.” One can’t help but wonder why he had to die so soon, wasn’t there more good he could have done?

Everyone who knew Rob knew he was a Christian. There was no hiding that fact. While we have the promise of heaven, we still mourn for ourselves, our lives without such an amazing man.

More than that, we are inspired. Inspired to live in a manner so that we can leave a legacy as amazing as his.