We lost our dear friend, Dave Robinson, Wednesday and we’re dealing with it, as friends do, by struggling to understand and accept, and then sharing fond memories. Last night some of us gathered to celebrate a life well lived and to remember all the delightful, whimsical, beautiful ways he touched and enriched our lives. We shared anecdotes and remembered his quiet modesty, his intelligence, his deep sensitivity, his humor and his gentile kindness. And in the process, we stepped a little closer toward acceptance and, slowly, let the healing begin.
I’m reminded of something Jack Foley said a few years ago about Kevin Reilly’s last poem, Coupled Again Across the Yearling Skies. In the poem, Reilly seems to be facing — and facing up to — the possibility of his own death. The poem plays the idea of the “yearling” — something new, only a year old — against “the age of fear” which, like a feeble old person, “trembles and dies.” The age of fear is also perhaps the fear of age or the age at which fear begins, with death a “mocking adieu.”
”…Come softly again behind angel eyes,
Rest warm drift, dream, the light day bows to you,
Coupled again across the yearling skies,
See how the age of fear trembles and dies.”
Now, whenever I read the poem, I’ll picture Davey, a rubber band looped on his finger in the special way he challenged me to duplicate, making me an origami elephant from a crisp new dollar bill. Godspeed, my friend. We’ll miss you. You were an inspiration in more ways than you ever knew.
I know Michael won’t mind if I share something he wrote yesterday. He knew Dave better than any of us and his words express our shared sorrow.
William David Robinson - July 29th, 1930 - August 20th, 2008
This morning the air is a little thicker, the noise a little more noticeable and the minutes a little less tolerable. There’s a little less “magic” in the world today.
It’s been said that you can pick your friends, but not your family. Dave Robinson proved that to be incorrect. Through the years, he has been a source of wisdom, joy, support and unwavering friendship to our entire family. He has been our family’s adviser, teacher, counselor, prophet, patriarch and most assuredly, trusted and loved friend.
Through holidays, family events, quiet evenings of reflection, trials and tribulations and more sushi restaurants than we’ll ever be able to remember, our friend was there for every one of us. He was a source of comfort and advice and support to both of us as we raised our kids, as well as a sounding board and advice for our kids as they grew up. There was an endless source of “tests” to see if we were paying attention to him, hours in the air flying his beloved “Cosmic Trigger” and witness to constant challenges to all around him to see if they could see his “magic.”
Those that did were rewarded with a smile that could light up a room, a child-like innocence that captured and carried you along with him, touches of deep wisdom brought on by a wealth of lifetime experiences and his own unique perspective on life. And then inevitably, a little origami gift left to remember him by if he felt you worthy.
As he grew older, he reached out to his peers as a counselor to help guide them along the path to aging, constantly challenging them to reach beyond their expectations and see that life is still worth living. Through the years, he has touched countless lives, hearts and souls and changed them for the better.
No one that ever met Dave Robinson forgot him. Even as his own body aged and began to fail, he remained a singular source of support for all that were around him, defiant to the end that his life would be on his terms and that he would never be a burden to his family or his friends. He never was.
He was the sad happy clown in any situation, forever trying to make you “see him, so that he could entertain you, enthrall you and touch your mind and soul. He was a master of his trade.
The gifts Dave Robinson leaves us are an appreciation of what unselfish love and friendship can mean. We are left with a memory of wonderful irreverence and joy that placed an indelible mark on those he touched through the years and a strange sense of emptiness and loss, unable to be filled by any other.
Our dear friend, William David Robinson.
Goodbye Magic Man, thanks for the show. We’ll miss you.
Edgar Sanchez of The Sacramento Bee penned a nice obituary about Dave’s life published in today’s paper. It was also published on-line on the Bee’s site.
I’d known Dave for five years and still learned things about him. He was one in a million.
Rest easy good friend. We miss you.