For Bob...

This week, one of my dearest friends was killed; accidentially, tragically. He was watching his wife and her team row crew in Portland, Oregon.  He was standing on a bridge. He waved to her as her boat went under the bridge. Then, he turned to cross the bridge to watch her boat emerge from the other side, but he never made it. Crossing the bridge, he was struck by a car and killed instantly.  

Grief is a funny thing. I somehow cannot bear to put up a picture of Bob on this page, but I can put up an example of how love helps us through the darkest of days. It is proof positive that God is there with us in our triumphs and in our tragedies. The picture above is of Cynthia's crew team. You, see, they didn't wallow in the tragedy that occurred, they acted. Someone decided that their very next race would have every team member wearing shirts remembering Bob.  It was a way to show solidarity with one of their teammates. It was a way to keep moving forward, even when the world seems to have stopped.  

They raced. They won. They held up Bob's wife in her grief by doing what only they could do. By proclaiming that Bob was there, that Bob lived, that Bob would not be forgotten. Not only would he not be forgotten, he would be celebrated. 

I love you Bob. Still.