I’ll be honest, I had the most productive morning: I read, I researched, I worked on my thesis and my presentation – woo! Then I went to work and all hell somewhat broke loose.
After checking my e-mail, I received a startling update. A friend’s sister wrote to tell everyone that our wonderful Rob was not doing so well. Now, Rob had been diagnosed with leukemia in July 2009, only a few months after graduating from college, and had been battling hard ever since. I’ve been in touch with him regularly over the past year, moreso than the few years prior where a gap in camp attendance put our friendship on hold. Rob and I go way back – I think I was 11 my first year of camp, and even though we spent every summer together for the next six years, that’s how I will always remember him – from the perspective of a little girl at her first sleep away camp.
It was late July in Cheney, Washington and it was hotter than hell. The drive was bleak, the air dry, and the brick Skeeter Hall was surprisingly cool, albeit dark. Rob may not have been the first person to talk to me, but I know he was there when I went to eat dinner alone on the first day and again when I didn’t have a partner in our digital film class. In the afternoon at the pool, and even in the group picture on the rock climbing wall – this cute, quirky, vivacious kid was there for me when I didn’t know a soul. I had the biggest crush on him for probably three years before I finally gave up and settled for friendship – as if you could call it settling.
Rob was the most sincere, kind, whimsical person I have ever met. He was brilliant and funny and sweet, and if you were ever having a bad moment, he was there to cheer you up and get you back on track. If I could only say one thing, I would say that Rob loved life and it loved him back – so it seemed.