When I joined tumblr, I had no idea where the Made with Paper app and tumblr would take me. Most of the time, I feel like Sally Field in her Oscar speech, “you like me, you really like me.” I hesitated posting the blog about Robert’s death but I’ve heard it said that “joy shared is doubled, pain shared is halved.” I am so touched with your notes to me and I’m starting to believe that I now have a tumblr family. Your concern and care are overwhelming and I promise to keep my kvetching to a minimum. Jane
My son Robert would be forty-five today, born just ten days after I turned 21 and on the same day Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin landed back after their first walk on the moon. His infectious laugh would light up a room and he was a very kind and gentle man, brilliant musician, avid bicycle rider and he was simply uniquely “Robert.” He loved his purple Doc Martins, his soulmate Jenny, and he died eight months before his beautiful niece was born (and I am definitely one of those grandmothers who know their grandchild is the greatest). When she was about two, I took her in the stroller for a walk and she said, “Mamie, would you please give Uncle Bobby some medicine so he won’t be dead anymore.” It was one of those gorgeous Portland summer days where the sky was clear and blue with the most amazing clouds. I took her out of the stroller and we laid on the grass looking at those beautiful clouds and I explained to Ellery that Uncle Bobby was watching out for all of us. We held hands, picked daffodils and cuddled on the grass.
I am so grateful for the thirty-five years I had with him … the last time I saw him was Thanksgiving weekend in 2004. We had driven to San Francisco for the holiday and I remember as we were driving away he started to run and he yelled, “I love you Mom.” That is the last vision I have of my child.
Despite losing all of my paintings from Made with Paper, I forged on, in spite of my grief, to see “Book of Mormon” with my daughter here in Portland. And wouldn’t you know it, real Mormons were outside the Keller Auditorium to spread the word and, it seems, to insert themselves in our selfie. Evidently, this particular young man has a great sense of humor. And to clarify, I am not standing in a hole, my daughter is 5’8” and I am 5’1”