Good-Bye, Robert

Superbowl Sunday my step-father, Robert Woodard Dotson, passed on from this world. It was expected, he had been ill for quite a time with failing kidneys, but that doesn’t really lessen the impact on the lives of those left behind. His wife of 40 years is my mother, and her strong  faith in God has helped her tremendously through this time. At first she was glad that he had left all his pain behind and is now with Jesus in Heaven. Then she looked at her situation and got a little angry. She is the older of the two and should have been the first to die. She thinks it is unfair that he got to Heaven before her.

Robert and “Red”

About a year or so after they were married, I went into the Army and never really got to know Robert that well. My sister got married the same year and was gone, but my little brother was only four at the time. My brother got to know him best as a parent and called him Dad. He raised my brother as if he were his own and loved him. After moving to Kentucky and getting settled in, events occurred that resulted in my grandson being adopted by my mother and Robert, and they raised him as if he were their own, and he loved him.

Robert was riding to work on a bicycle one day and was struck by a truck. Almost dieing on the operating table, he awoke to a new life of disability and had to adjust. My mother was working as a cook at a near-by university, so they had her small pay and his disability check to live on. Still they insured that everyone was fed and clothed and had a decent home in which to live. Times were not always smooth sailing, but the home always had love in abundance.

People would sometimes asked me how I feel about him and I would always reply that he was good to my mother and my family, so he’s alright with me. in my rebellious youth, in that year or so before I entered the Army we had our moments, and I gave him some  headaches, but all being said and done, he was alright with me. Come to think of it , among all us kids, I believe my sister is the only one of us that didn’t get into troubles and cause him headaches.

Looking back at my life, I’m sorry about that.

Later, when I was in the Army and would come home on leave, he would loan me a car to use, and later co-signed for a loan so I could get a vehicle of my own. Although I didn’t act like it most of the time, he still treated me as his son and loved me in spite of myself.

When I got the call from my brother that Robert has passed on, I informed my wife and we drove to Kentucky for the wake and the funeral. My wife, Ok Cha, is deaf and knew Robert even less than I did, but he always tried to communicate with her even though many people never even try. She appreciated that and was very sad that he had died. As soon as we entered the house, she cried and embraced my mother.  No other communication or interpreting was needed.

People would come to the house and bring food and talk about Robert, the man I realized I really didn’t know. I got to learn more about him from the people who knew him from daily contact and from his church. My Aunt is the pastor of the church and her son, Brian is the associate pastor. Together they would do the eulogy and funeral service at the funeral home and the graveside service at the cemetery.

Most everyone was already there who was going to be, but there was still the question of my two step-brothers making the trip. One in Tennessee and the other in North Dakota. Winter blizzards were covering most of the northern part of the country so we didn’t have much hope of Robert’s sister, Lillian coming in from Iowa or son Wesley coming in from North Dakota. The evening My wife and I arrived, the snow came falling, but we got the news anyway that Wesley and Dwight would both be arriving later that night. The bigger surprise was that Robert’s sister, Lillian would be arriving with her son. I hadn’t seen the boys for 40 years or more and I had never met Lillian.

At the wake at the funeral home, other relatives from the are would come and I saw people that I hadn’t seen in quite a while. My brother-in-law, Rod, had made a pictorial video about Robert’s family and friends and it was playing over and over on a screen over the coffin. My brother, who had been raised by Robert, kept watching the pictures as they played over and over and he finally lost it and broke down crying. It’s hard to be strong and hold back when someone you love is gone.

The next day was the funeral service. My aunt, Pastor Betty, spent some time giving anecdotes about Bob’s life and loves. He loved God and the church, he loved to eat and he loved Red. “Red” was what he always called my mother, although her red hair has long ago turned to white. Yes, he was a man that loved and was loved. Then Cousin Brian took over and did the actual funeral service, along with a few anecdotes of his own blended in with scripture. Betty and Brian’s words brought to me much of what I had missed about this man’s life, what I had missed by being so distant. Yes, I cried, not for his passing, but for myself all those who are left behind. That’s why we have funerals, to comfort those who are left behind.

I and my brothers and cousins and grandson were pall bearers from the funeral home to the hearse, then from the hearse to the grave site through 10 inches of snow. A second, shorter service was given there by cousin Brian. My cousin, Brent and I are prior military and my grandson, Hugh is in R.O.T.C. We raised the flag from the coffin and folded it in the traditional triangle and gave it to Hugh to present it to my Mother. Robert’s time in the Army was not a career, but it was very meaningful to him.

So we all say good-bye to Robert Woodard Dotson for now with plans to see him again in a better place by and by.