Saturday, March 01, 2003

Today was the 2nd anniversary of the day that Rob took his life. I got through the day pretty well, all considering. As the hours came closer to the time that I got the phone call, I wondered what must have been going through his mind to do something so drastic. I miss him and still think of him every day. However, a lot of those memories are happy ones and I giggled to myself several times today thinking about the chats we'd have on IM, the tangents we'd go off on, and the uncontrollable laughter that ensued. The teasing, one liners, and funny observations. Incidents like when my dad got a fancy meat thermometer for Christmas, and as we were outside on the terrace cooking the Christmas bird, Rob held it up to my dad and said with a completely straight face, "Now Jim, under no circumstances are you to stick this up your anus." I almost died laughing. My dad was speechless but took it in good stride. Rob could take the grandeur of my dad and reduce him to an object of fun ridicule. Or, dubbing the knitting group that my stepmother Marie attended the respectful name of, "Geezers with Tweezers."

And, there wasn't anyone in the world who knew more about baseball and particularly the New York Mets than Rob. He was an encyclopedia of sports knowledge, perhaps because due to his mild cerebral palsy, he couldn't play them. He always had everyone else's happiness or well being in mind before his own. His intelligence was astounding, as was his sensitivity. He was twenty years old.

It is also the day that Blogger chose my blog as a "Blog of Note." I do not think that the two are merely a coincidence. I started this blog to deal with the loss of Rob, and in place of our Instant Message chats I started to write to him in a blog called "Letters to Rob," hoping that somewhere, somehow he'd get them. I started this blog after that one, needing a cathartic outlet for the day to day things of life going on. Because life does go on. It's a huge pain in the ass sometimes but it's supposed to be that way. No one has all the answers or ever will. There will be many wrong turns, but the important thing is to work your way back to the right road. Not to stop. Not to give up, but to understand that this too, will pass. And when it does you may find yourself in an art class really glad to be alive as you paint, knowing that you are responsible for getting yourself here. And, proud that you have stuck to it and in the greatest moments of despair, kept going. Kept going, so you can see what you are capable of when you are at your best, instead of ending it all when you feel your worst.

I plan to keep going. I wish that Rob had, too. But just because he didn't, doesn't mean that he never was. So, I'll take this opportunity of increased traffic to let the world know:

Robert Detoro was.

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