What is the meaning of life? Yesterday, I had an intuition that there was something dreadfully wrong. I hadn’t heard from my brother since Thursday night’s dinner with Aaron. Gail and I had considered a wellness check on Saturday but shrugged it off. After speaking with a couple of his friends yesterday, I knew something dreadfully was off.
I called the City of Scottsdale help line and met officers at his apartment. We couldn’t get any answer, and after an hour, the apartment management came to open his door. It was eerie, frightful; Bob was there, laying in his bed, gone. Struggling with his health for the past few years had been most difficult for him, and for all of us around to watch. Constant procedures, operations, doctor & hospital visits, it hit me he was finally free. Speaking with the police, I noticed the door to his patio was open, and the screen closed. I explained to the medical examiner this was strange, since Bob liked it cool in his apartment. Explaining we were Jewish and that I need to call Sinai Mortuary, she said something that stuck with me all night: “Steve, in your religion, we are told to open the door so the Spirit can leave!” I know that there is a Spirit of Love deep inside all of us, and in recovery, it’s our job to share and spread that Love, no matter how often we fail.
We had many wonderful, great times together. You were a bright Spirit, and the door was open for you to be free and truly fly. My dear brother Bob, I love you.
I will miss navigating life’s challenges with you, arguing along the way trying to find the path marked LOVE. Bob, know you’re missed and we’ll be back in the high life again.