Robert C. Hobbs 1976-2005

Last week my best friend from high school called me at 8 in the morning. Clearly, she does not know me that well. When not working, I don't "do" 8 o'clock in the morning. So I knew something was wrong.

Her son, the son she had at 18, had joined the Army straight out of high school and had even been the first group sent to Iraq. I wrote Robbie, as I called him, weekly for his duration in Iraq, and he always took my rantings against Bush and the war with all the love for him that I had. I learned from Robbie to love the soldier even if I didn't love the war. Sometimes he would write back and wonder why he was there too, but he never ever questioned his job. He taught me that soldiers had jobs to do, and that no matter how we felt about politics and the war, we should honor, respect, and support those men and women in the military. He could have taught us all a thing or two during Vietnam.

Last summer (2004) Robbie and his wife Ann visited his parents to a wonderful homecoming complete with B-B-Q and all the food he had missed while in Iraq. It was so good to hug that skinny little kid I had known since he was born and rejoice in his good fortune to be alive. On Thursday, November the 3rd, Linda received a call from her Daughter-in-law that Robbie had been killed in a traffic accident. I could not believe the words as Linda told me that her son was dead. When you send your child to war, you accept the fact that he or she might die in war. When you send your child to training, you realize there is a chance, smaller, that there could be an accident that you weren't expecting. But when you send your soldier child to a military base in Germany for training, you never think she or he could die the same way they could have died if they had stayed home.

At the visitation, Linda and I hugged, and then she asked me to "come see his medals." Looking at a dead body is tough enough. Looking at a young person who is dead is gut-wrenching. Peering into a casket of a dead soldier while his mother proudly shows off her son's medals is almost too much to handle. I stood there, sobbing over his body while Linda held me. I cried as much for her strength and courage as I did for the senseless loss of life. I thanked God for protecting Linda during this time as she was this incredible life force throughout the time I was at the visitation. Our third "partner in crime" from high school drove in from Illinois. We ignored the gray hair and the extra lbs and hugged in a teary-eyed threesome that wiped out decades.

Linda and I went off to different colleges in August of '75 when I received a phone call that she was dropping out... to get married. When I asked her if she had to get married, she said, "I don't have to get married. We want to get married." I sang John Denver's "For Baby" at her wedding while wearing my yellow seersucker prom dress. (Hey, don't blame me. It was the 70s.) Linda became a mother at 18 and took that responsibility on her shoulders like I never could. She was always "older" and "wiser" than I could ever be. (She was the oldest of 3 while I was the baby of 4. It was in her genetic make-up to be stronger, more courageous.) The marriage soon ended in divorce (another statistic), but she worked even harder as both mother and father to Robbie. Eventually she would remarry a wonderful man who raised Robbie as his own son and they had a sister for Robbie. Linda went back to school for her nursing degree. I was so proud of her. I always admired Linda for her guts, her courage, her strength. She lost another son in childbirth after her daughter was born, and yesterday she had to bury her second son. Life really sucks sometimes.

On the way to Robbie's funeral, I recalled the words to the song I sang at Linda's wedding 30 years ago this month. Of course, they were written for Denver's son, but I sang them as if they were meant for a couple at a wedding. (Hey, again, it was the 70s.) On Monday on my way to Robbie's funeral as the tears slid down my face, I sang the words again in their original purpose... for baby... for Robbie. I could barely get them out as I am not as strong as Linda. It is the promise and prayer we have for all our children.

I’ll walk in the rain by your side,

I’ll cling to the warmth of your hand.

I’ll do anything to keep you satisfied,

I’ll love you more than anybody can.

And the wind will whisper your name to me,

little birds will sing along in time.

Leaves will bow down when you walk by

and morning bells will chime.

I’ll be there when you’re feeling down

to kiss away the tears that you cry.

I’ll share with you all the happiness I’ve found,

a reflection of the love in your eyes.

And I’ll sing you the songs of the rainbow,

a whisper of the joy that is mine.

Leaves will bow down when you walk by

and morning bells will chime.

I’ll walk in the rain by your side,

I’ll cling to the warmth of your tiny hand.

I’ll do anything to help you understand,

and I’ll love you more than anybody can.

And the wind will whisper your name to me,

little birds will sing along in time.

Leaves will bow down when you walk by

and morning bells will chime.