My Uncle Bob passed away last night. It was unexpected.
When an 80 year old man passes away unexpectedly, it means he was living well. When friends and family are shocked that complications removing cancerous tumors took his life, that means the man is viewed as bullet-proof. This is a good thing. This means the man lived young.
If you have ever met Bob Blevins, then you know, one: He was virtually bullet-proof. And, two: 80?? Yes, 80 years old. I know.
I don't want this to come off the wrong way to my relatives, but I viewed Uncle Bob as my Godfather-in-law. I actually had to ask my mom if he had inherited me as a Godson...wasn't sure how that worked. My actual Godfather is Jerry Russell, my Aunt Joan's (mom's sister) first husband. He died of cancer shortly after I was born. Several years later Aunt Joan married Uncle Bob. Joan and Jerry had two kids, Kathy and Robert--both of whom I feel I am very close to, at least at some point in our lives. Joan and Bob then had two kiddos of their own, Michael and Carrie--same thing, very close. Those are my four Russell-Blevins cousins, and I love them all to death. Uncle Jerry and I were never able to spend much time together, at least in my memory--so Uncle Bob is really the only uncle I've ever known from that side of the family.
So there's your background. There's your view of our tree.
This ramble isn't to receive "Sorry for your loss" or "You and your family are in our prayers" comments on the Facebook or texts or what have you. That's nice, but that's not why I'm writing this. I am writing this because my Uncle Bob was incredible.
As an "old" dad myself, I've recently viewed Bob as a bit of role model. There was never a time when he wouldn't take us out in the yard and knock fly balls to us. Tirelessly, he would entertain me, Robert, Mike, and whatever friends happened to be by. Fly ball after fly ball. Tired of shagging baseballs? Let's play some horseshoes. Touch football...tackle football! Let's get in the pool. Hey, the Cardinals are on! Let's watch the game.
Uncommon Bob's. Yes, yes. That is what we call my uncle's special marinade that he used when grilling. Pork butt, pork shoulder, ribs, brisket. If anyone reading this was lucky enough to attend mine and April's rehearsal dinner in Lyons, Colorado, then you sampled some of Uncle Bob's grilled meats. He was manning the Weber Texas Ranch Kettle stacked with pork and beef. I'm cooking some tomorrow. I suppose it will be in his memory, but I was going to anyway. That's how good it is. Him and I will chat tomorrow while the smoke is rolling.
Uncle Bob was fun. I rarely saw him in a sour mood. That means he appreciated things. His kids. His grandkids. His wife. But what you need to know about my Uncle Bob, whether you knew him, or this is just some ramble about a guy you've never heard of, is that he was the most selfless man I knew. My uncle would drive thousands of miles to help you...and he did. You were in a jam? A bind? Hard times? Don't think twice, Bob will do what he can to help. Bob didn't have a ton of money. Didn't matter, he'd do what he could to help out a friend or a loved one...and he did. As far as being a good human being goes, it doesn't get much better than my Aunt Joan and Uncle Bob.
This just isn't hearsay, it's the damn truth. I'm not just saying that Bob seemed like a good guy, so he would probably do this sort of thing. He did. He helped more people than you know or I know. And he did it all under the radar. No accolades, no drama, no pats on the back. Just pure, honest selflessness. That, friends, is a legacy.
So it's onward and upward. I don't care if you are a religious sort or not, Bob Blevins is in Heaven. Doesn't matter if you're Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, atheist, or some other belief. I even question my beliefs at times. But I don't question that Uncle Bob is in Heaven. This is a man that God is already considering giving a promotion.
