Remembrances of my talks at the “Remembering Robby” Memorial
service held at the East Vancouver United Methodist church on 2 November
2014.
“Thank you all for coming today as we share our memories of
my little brother Robert.
We are gathered here to celebrate the life of Robert Carson,
to remember him, and to give anyone that
would like to share your own memories of him, happy or sad.
Over the years as I would fly into town for family reunions
and gatherings, Robert would arrive late, or sometimes not show up at all. Well, he did it to us again today, did not
show up for his own funeral. But this
time he has a good excuse.
I want to start off with a story, then have a 10 minute
slide show of his life, and then will open up the mike for you to come up and
share your thoughts or memories.
Earlier in the week when I flew in
from Virginia, as I got off the plane I called Joe to let him know I had
arrived. Joe told me Robert had died
about an hour ago, and that Marty would come pick me up in the red car. I was a little in shock, as I had hoped to
have a chance to say goodbye.
As I stood out by the arrival area
watching for my ride, a car pulled up a little bit away from me. A guy got out that looked just like
Robby, same size, same baseball hat. He smiles and waved at me (so it
seemed).
My first thought was “Robert had
come to get me instead of Marty”. The I
remembered Rob was gone and it could not be him. Then I watched as a woman standing nearby me
went to the car and greeted him.
The guy looked so much like Robert. He was happy and smiling and seemed to be
waving goodbye to me. It’s like it was
Robert telling me he is ok and happy and everything will be OK. The
thought brought peace to my heart and tears to my eyes. “
Slide show. Played
with the music: Introduction to the “Fountain
of Lamneth” by Rush, “Awesome God” by Piano Chillout, and “Wish you were here”
by Pink Floyd.
After the slide show several people got up to speak,
including Marty, Joyce, Joe, Linda,
Virginia and several of Roberts friends,
Scuffy Shoemaker, Scott Randall, and others.
About 75 People attended.
As the speakers wound down, I played a special request for
the younger generation that was there.
Meghan Agee wanted me to play “Stop crying your heart out” by Oasis
because it reminded her of Robby.
I took the opportunity to talk again, share some more
thoughts and feelings and memories before the hour was over. The following are things I can remember, but
not necessarily in this order.
“ I came from Virginia as fast as I could once I heard he
was given only about a week to live. I
wanted a chance to say goodbye one last time, and wanted to ask him to forgive
me for not being a better big brother to him over the years.
We all lost our father when we were young, and I suppose I
was struggling myself to find my own way in life and the meaning to it all.
We all need to be forgiven for the things we did, and the
things we did not do but should
have. You can never know how todays
choices we make will come out a year, or even 10 years from now.
I can remember when we were
all young I was more interested in hanging around with my friends, and
would try to “ditch” little brothers.
I was the one who introduced him to his first adult beverage
at an age when he was way too young to be exposed to such things. How much of my actions influenced
Robert?
But ultimately we are all responsible for our own choices in
life. Robert made his own choices and
lived his life the way he chose. He was
a true free spirit.
There was a time when I was younger that I hung a guitar around my neck and tried
to play. When I left home Robert picked
up the same dream and took it much further than I did. At one point I wrote him a letter telling
him he could have all my old musical equipment I had let him borrow. He was using it all along anyway, so he could
do with it what he wanted. ( he had
probably already sold it) I told him
there comes a time when we put away one dream for another. I had done that with my guitar that I sold
after carrying it around the world and almost never played it. My youngest daughter told that the first
time she remembers seeing me cry was when I sold my guitar.
We all hoped Robert and his band would hit it big and buy us
all a big house and fancy car.
Robert never cared much for the things of the world – the
things money could buy. It does not
matter how much money you have, or don’t have.
If you drive a fancy car or live in a big house. What matters is the love you share with
others, with the friends and family around you. That is the kind of thing that was important
to Robert.
We never know when the end will come. Don’t put off until tomorrow the words of
love or friendship you have for others.
Tell them today.
Ultimately there are three questions in life we would do
well to find the answers to. Where did
we come from? Why are we here? Where do
we go once we leave this life. Robert
knows the answers to those questions, but he cannot tell us. We all search in our own ways to find the
meanings of things. I hope we all can do
that.
Farewell my little brother, until we meet on the other side.
We love
you.”
Roberts Obituary – as listed in the Columbian Newspaper.
ROBERT "ROBBY" D. CARSON
March 16, 1965 ~ October 29, 2014
Robert "Robby" D. Carson, 49, passed away
peacefully after a long struggle with health problems. Robby worked in
construction as a sider when able. He was a musician, playing guitar in bands
in the Portland, OR area, a driftwood creations artist and lover of animals.
Robby is survived by his mother, Dorothy; sister, Linda; brothers, Marty and
Joe, all of Vancouver, WA; as well as sister, Joyce and brother, Greg from
Texas; brother, Kent from Virginia; his dog, Bree; and many friends in the
area. He was preceded in death by his father, Forrest Dale Carson in 1971.
2 comments:
Kent, I lost my brother at age 39 in 2002,and it sounds like he was a lot like your brother. I think it is a special kind of sorrow...maybe for what were wasted opportunities and second (third,fourth etc) chances. He haunted my dreams for several years before we did his temple work. Since then, I rarely have sad dreams about him.
Laura Leseberg
Very nice, dad. Love you!
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