Robert was goofy, funny kind of guy. He had a mischievous air about him. Sometimes he'd tell silly jokes when we saw him at the boarding home then give us his big, goofy grin.
He also loved playing his guitar. When he had one. He was always buying and then selling his guitars to the local pawn shop whenever he was strapped for cash. At Christmastime he'd play carols. The rest of the time you might hear John Denver's, Take me home, country roads, or other oldies hits.
Over the past year or so Robert wasn't doing so well. I'm not sure if he was at CAMH, but he had to go away for treatment at least twice. When he returned, he wasn't quite himself (at least some of the time). He also lost a dramatic amount of weight. It was pretty shocking.
Before he passed away I did join him in his room because he wanted to show me a list that he made up. I think it was of things he enjoyed doing or something like that. Normally we're not supposed to go to residents' rooms on our own, but I'm glad I broke the rules this time. It was nice to spend some personal, one-on-one time with him. He was quite happy to show me what he had written.
Little did I know that would be the last time I saw him because I missed our last visit to the boarding home. That was over the Victoria Day long weekend when I went up to Tobermory to camp with my friends.
I hope you're in a better place now, Robert. One where you can play your guitar freely and not have to worry about any demons bothering you.
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