For Rob Kimes, who, like Sisyphus, was compelled to roll a huge rock up a steep mountain, but before he could reach the top of the mountain, the rock would always roll back down again, forcing him to begin all over again, and again, and again . . . and again . . . until July 24, 2009.
Sisyphus (1548–49) by Titian, Prado Museum, Madrid, Spain Why did the American Sisyphus who worked hard to climb that mountain have to start all over again? Why did the weaver of knowledge, at times even the weaver of wisdom, not write his own books? Why did he not tell his wife to be tougher with him whenever he wanted more ice cream, more cake? Why did the communicator of communicators have to leave his post before his work was done? Why was the father of many not given the chance to stay till his first grandchild shrilled with life?
I do not know the answer to any of those questions, except that a great deal of that which was Rob lives on, sits in old e-mail messages, attaches itself to any Unitarian thought, to all religions of the worlds, applauds whenever someone mentions Toastmasters, or whenever someone hugs Susan, the Mensch, whenever someone marvels at the lives of 4 beautiful young trees, swaying in the wind of Illinois, whenever laughter fills a room: That’s when Rob comes alive, that’s when we hold hands.
Ave vale, fare thee well, auf Wiedersehen, my friend, and keep sending us those 1001 emails from the Facebook of Timelessness. Knowing you, Rob, you’ll make the angels laugh, you’ll make the angels cry.
Love and shalom, Rob, wherever you are, whichever mountain you are climbing now; love and shalom to Susan and her four precious young trees; love and shalom to all of Rob’s friends, here & everywhere: Love and shalom to all of you. Love and shalom. LOVE AND . . . SHALOM.
Henrik Eger
I do not know the answer to any of those questions, except that a great deal of that which was Rob lives on, sits in old e-mail messages, attaches itself to any Unitarian thought, to all religions of the worlds, applauds whenever someone mentions Toastmasters, or whenever someone hugs Susan, the Mensch, whenever someone marvels at the lives of 4 beautiful young trees, swaying in the wind of Illinois, whenever laughter fills a room: That’s when Rob comes alive, that’s when we hold hands.
Ave vale, fare thee well, auf Wiedersehen, my friend, and keep sending us those 1001 emails from the Facebook of Timelessness. Knowing you, Rob, you’ll make the angels laugh, you’ll make the angels cry.
Love and shalom, Rob, wherever you are, whichever mountain you are climbing now; love and shalom to Susan and her four precious young trees; love and shalom to all of Rob’s friends, here & everywhere: Love and shalom to all of you. Love and shalom. LOVE AND . . . SHALOM.
Henrik Eger
This poem is copyrighted. If you are interested in publishing it or adapting it to music, film, etc., please contact the author.
