We lost Robert a few weeks ago. Roughly three weeks after thinking he probably had kidney stones, Robert passed away from a very rare and aggressive form of cancer that I can neither spell nor pronounce. His death has left a huge void in the lives of many. Some 80 of us, gathered in a Zoom Room three days ago to celebrate his life. The outpouring of love was tremendous.
I didn't speak up. I wanted to. I certainly felt that I was more "qualified" than 80% of the folks who did. After all, I had spent countless hours in lunches, dinners, and phone calls with Robert in which we solved the world's problems and lamented as to why everyone else wasn't as intelligent as we were and why they just didn't get it.
Unlike me, however, Robert was a real genius. I actually know what his IQ was....and lets just say it was WAY higher than what is traditionally considered genius level. He knew I wasn't his equal. But he admired my willingness to play the imposter and try to hang with him in conversation. He actually complimented me in reference to that on more than one occasion.
Robert was a Seeker of Truth and God's Will for his life. His studies had lead him to believe that the Torah (the Law, the 10 Commandments) were still in full effect and that nothing had nullified them. He even practiced the dietary restrictions contained in the Torah and held all the teaching there to be of utmost importance.
Consequently, we had hours and hours of lively discussion and debate. It is only now after a few weeks of reflection that I can now see that Robert, for nearly 14 years, had become a Rabbi to me. Rabbi simply means Teacher. And man oh man did he ever teach me some very valuable lessons!
Robert taught me how to love my wife better. He adored his wife Karen and she was integral to everything he talked about and lived. I cannot count the times, after seeing perfect strangers pray before a meal in public, Robert would go straight to his wallet, pull out a couple of 20s and go pay for their meal. The first few times, all I could say was "Dude!!!" He reminded me that Karen had taught him that practice and by following her example, he honored her each and every time.
Robert taught me how to maintain my sanity while attempting to run a small business. Like me, Robert was a small business owner. It was easy for us to fall into pity parties during leaner times and just beat each other down with our tales of woe. But in the end, he would fall back into his Biblical studies and usually conclude these conversations with, "Well, Kev, just like the children of Israel, we always seem to get our daily manna. So, evidently, God knows exactly what we need."
Robert taught me how to understand God's love. He illustrated it in such an elementary way. I suppose he understood that was the only way I could get it. He would say, "Kev, have you ever been to a first dance recital of 4 and 5 year olds? They are truly awful! Those little kids have no idea what they are doing. Yet, in the back of the room, there is a Dad with a thousand dollar camera and a 24 inch telephoto zoom lens. He has that camera zoomed on his little girl and, to him, she is the greatest dancer in the world."
He would go on to explain to me that's how God is looking at me. He said, "God has his camera zoomed in on you Kev. And you are awful at what you are trying to do. But God is looking at you and saying, 'There's my boy, Kevin. He's really bad at life. He's messing it up. He's sticking his foot in his mouth. He's seemingly doing everything wrong. But he's just the way I made him. And he is mine.'"
These stories could go on and on and on. It's taken losing Robert, for me to realize what an earthly Rabbi he had become to me. And today, I miss my Rabbi.
