Last night felt like any other night at first. I drove to work as usual. Got there and checked everything that I normally did to start the shift. It was quiet, and so I began to peruse the internet. All of this was quite normal.
Then I decided to check in on an old college friend. I had reached out to him some days ago, but never heard back from him. I guessed that maybe he was angry with me for something, but it was hard to tell. After checking, it became clear that he had not seen the message (since Facebook shows when a private message has been seen by the other party).
We always talked about getting together again. Despite medical issues - particularly with one leg - he wanted us to go hiking somewhere in the Pine Barrens. We almost did get together, but he reached out and cancelled when the weather forecast was for serious rain. So it was one of those backburner things.
No worries, I thought. Next time, right?
But there's a Buddhist saying which I have heard numerous times in recent years: "The problem is you think you have time."
I went on his profile page and immediately saw something unusual. A woman had posted a picture of a sunset on his page, saying that she was sharing it and dedicated the sunset to him. She also said, "Rest easy, my friend." There was a prayer emoji next to that.
That seemed unusual, and so I scrolled down a bit. The very next post that I saw was from his sister, who announced that the world had lost Rob Conn.
Almost immediately, I thought back to when we first met. It was early in the spring semester of 1993, at Bergen Community College. I was unhappy with my life and thought that the college presented me with a chance to reinvent myself. To that end, I joined the Environmental Club. Rob and I met during the first meeting. Bergen Community College marked the peak of my social life, and Rob was the first new friend that I made there. It was a lasting friendship.
He spoke a lot, and he spoke fast. Half the time, I couldn't even keep up, hardly knew what he said. Also, he was admittedly a bit strange. He talked about UFO's constantly, shared stories of being abducted. It was not for everybody. Some people thought he was weird. Some made fun of him.
All I knew was that he was good people. A gentle giant.
We were both active in the Environmental Club. Talked about some of the girls we were attracted to. Over the years, we made many mutual friends, went out as groups to movies and social outings. Picnics. Hiking. We did Habitat for Humanity with several college friends. He was one of the groomsmen when I got married. Went on camping trips with numerous other friends once every few months.
Those camping trips were special. Thought that they would last a lot longer than they actually did. My guess is that this was the presumption of youth. They came to an end, although I did not know at the time that it was going to be the end. Some kind of fracture between some of those friends and Rob, and that was pretty much it.
For a few years, we lost touch. Then we got back in touch on Facebook. Eventually, we began to chat quite a bit. He called me one of his closest friends, for which I am honored. We were going to go visit the old college campus together. I was going to visit him in southern Jersey, where he lived with his father while trying to recover from some of his health problems. We spoke about visiting a mutual friend in Chile, on the other side of the world, much like we spoke about getting together for hiking and possibly Halloween.
In the end, we never got to do any of that.
He had medical issues. But I didn't know the seriousness of it, admittedly. He spoke about it, but in terms of it being a temporary setback. He talked about getting back on his feet again. Getting past the medical issues, getting some money and to be able to live the kind of life he hoped for. In retrospect, I probably took his word for it and assumed that what he was going through medically was not as serious as it was possibly because I wanted to believe it. Probably, he convinced himself of the same thing because he wanted to believe it. Perhaps it was one last bit of shared youthful foolish which we shared together.
When I learned that he had passed, there was a strange mixture of emotions. Shock, admittedly. Sadness, obviously. Guilt, as well, because we had always planned to get together again, but very loosely. Too loosely, as it turns out. As it turns out, in the end it never did get past the talking and planning phase. For that, I have to fault myself. I should have made more of an effort. Found the time.
Today, I am making the time to honor him in some small way.
It hardly seems like enough. Again, that feels like my fault. But it's the least that I can do.
Below are some pictures which I gathered for this occasion. To honor him. To keep his memory alive for a bit longer.
One note. Two of the pictures seemed particularly appropriate to place them on top of this post. One is a necklace which he gave me and another mutual friend. He also had one. He gave it as a token of permanent friendship between us, which was both touching and an honor. The other picture was taken by another mutual friend, Keith Cho. It shows him standing on top of a rock during one of our hiking sessions. It seemed particularly fitting to share a picture of him standing tall. He will always stand tall in my mind now. A gentle giant who stood tall, rose above.
I miss my friend Rob.
Rest in peace, my friend.
The pictures taken by Keith Cho. He's the one on the bottom right in the first picture. Figured this would be a good opportunity to share all of these pictures, even though Rob isn't in all of them.
I had no idea he was grappling with such serious health issues. I'm very sorry for your loss, especially since I know you guys go back over thirty years. I only met him a couple times, but I agree with your assessment: though some misinterpreted his eccentricity, he was a good egg, and highly intelligent. R.I.P. Rob.
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