Rest in Peace

September 18, 2003

Robert B. died two days ago. He was one of my first friends when I moved to the Beneva Park Club, July 1, 2002. I was assigned to a dining room table where Bob sat with two others who also have become friends. When one eats three meals a day, nearly every day, with the same men, one inevitably gets to know much about them. Bob was the youngest by about ten years of the four of us.

Bob B., a very complex man, had a varied and interesting career.

Born of a farm family in Iowa, he also owned a farm in Maryland. He knew much about agriculture and was appreciative and sensitive to the needs of farmers and their contribution to us all. On his apartment door was a bold-lettered sign, “NO FARMS, NO FOOD.”

Within fifteen minutes of the time I first met him, he informed me, somewhat militantly, that he was an atheist. Not only did this appear in conversations at meal, again and again, but also his obit in the local newspaper printed the words, “He was an atheist.” I am sure that he left specific instructions to his family to include that in his obituary. He felt some connectedness with me, a Unitarian Universalist, because his mother attended one of our churches in Washington, D.C.

He was a navy veteran, having served as a Lieutenant in the submarine service. Fred D., another tablemate, had served on a sub-chaser. Fred told me that he and Bob had discussed battle tactics, sub-chaser versus submarine.

Bob was also employed by the National Institute of Health as a research scientist. One of his projects was recording the sexual and mating habits of monkeys (I don’t know which breed). It was never made clear to me why the N.I.H. needed and authorized this unusual research. Bob knew the Latin names of all of the primates.

In politics, Bob was an ardent and articulate Democrat. I’m sure one of his regrets is not having lived long enough to vote for the Democrat nominee in the 2004 election.

He relished good food. He was quick to criticize the servings at Beneva Park Club if the soup or the entree did not live up to his expectations. “That’s not French onion soup,, where’s the cheese?” is a complaint I heard many times. He had favorite eating-out places – a particular Chinese restaurant, a seafood restaurant that would serve oysters in the shell. He spoke of eating a dozen more than once. On one occasion he told us he ate three dozen! Perhaps he did; I have no reason to doubt it.

On our table, he kept a particular supply of food not available from the kitchen. On a “lazy Susan” which was his own, there were condiments and other items not supplied by the kitchen. There were particular kinds of liquid sugar substitutes; at least two varieties of mustard, chili sauce, pickled watermelon, marinated mushrooms, a large jar of peanut butter, jars of jams and jellies. Now that these are no longer taking up so much space in the center of the table, we have much more space to eat our meals.

He had somewhat of an obsession with women. He frequently talked of his large supply of pornographic videos. Conversations with him became somewhat raunchy, ending up “below the equator”, which was a favorite euphemism of his. He would ask the waitresses if he could lean his head on their bosoms.

But in my view this somewhat unpleasant aspect of his personality was far out-weighed by his constant devotion to his wife, L. She is in an advanced stage of Alzheimers in the nursing wing which is an adjunct to the Beneva Park Club.

Bob had to use a motorized wheel chair. He had a skillful way of holding L.’s wheelchair with one hand and driving his motorized vehicle with the other. Nearly every day he took her riding around the grounds and corridors. Each wore a bright red beret which had some common memory for them. Bob was never sure whether she had some faint recognition of him or some memory of the songs he sang to her. His devotion never flagged.

A few weeks ago Bob was diagnosed with a throat tumor. His difficulty swallowing was increased by the radiation treatments to which he was exposed. Soon after, a feeding tube had to be used and he was moved to the nursing wing.

A couple of weeks ago, or so, he made the decision never again to eat food or have anything to drink. When I went to see him, he was calm and serene. He did not regret the decision. In about ten days, he died peacefully. I am glad that I knew him.

In THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA (Act III, Sc. i), Shakespeare has Valentine say,

“And why not death, rather than living torment.”