"Uncle Bob"

The first time Carolyn danced was during a visit to our friends' Bob, and Jennie's house a few days before she was born. Bob and Jennie got out their fiddle and guitar, and suddenly there was rhythym in my womb.

The first time she heard live music outside of the womb, was when we visited Bob and Jennie's and they got their instruments out again. It was one of the first times in Washington that we felt really at home--a moment when we realized we had good, true friends.

Since then, Carolyn--all of us really--have had a softspot for her "Uncle Bob." Everytime they would come to visit, or we would go see them she zeroed in on him. Something about his smiling eyes and soft voice just appealed to her. At first we thought it was his handlebar mustache that caught her attention, but when he had chemo and lost all of his hair--including that mustache--she showed us otherwise.

In the last few weeks, despite Bob's deterioration, Carolyn has had this same connection. The last time we saw Bob, Carolyn locked eyes on him and gave him her biggest smile, and Bob, though disoriented and in and out of awareness saw her, broke into a huge grin, raised his hands and clapped. They had some special moments that day.

Bob died this afternoon at 4 p.m. He was a man with a gentle voice, a quick smile, and a musical laugh. He loved to play his fiddle and was the true compliment to his beautiful wife, Jennie. He had a strong faith--especially in these last few months. He was a good friend.

We miss him very much already.