Rob Brese
So, I haven’t blogged about this, because it was one of those “if Sharon wants a big deal made of it, she’ll say something in her own blog”... but she hasn’t said anything the whole time and unfortunately now it’s time for this post.
Rob. Rob instigated Sharon’s dreadlocks and then he had the audacity to get her to do his. One of the great Rob stories is how, New Years Eve 2001/2002, Rob was a gentleman enough to not only hold Sharon as she… uhm… purged herself of an excessive amount of tequila not only over herself but over him as well; but then he took her home and showered her somewhat, and let her sleep in his bed… and he didn’t even rag on her about her hair smelling like puke. Sharon tells this story much better than I. Something about laying on the floor of the shower as Rob is trying to wash puke off her shirt, and she’s just saying, “fuuuuuck youuuuuuuuu, I haaaaaate yooooouuuuuuuuuuuu” as only a person with an excessive amount of tequila in their system can do.
I only met Rob a couple of times; once when he came down from Atlanta for Joe and Laura’s Halloween celebration (in 2001, and I’ll have to dig up some photos from that because they did costumes from Nightmare Before Christmas); and once at DragonCon 2002. I didn’t think too much of him the first time, because he was driving Sharon nuts, but the second time he was treating her like the Goddess she is so I forgave him and really kind of started to like him.
He was in a motorcycle accident a few weeks ago. Some asshatted fuckwit cocksucker in a car made a left into oncoming traffic—which was Rob, on his motorcycle. Asshatted fuckwit cocksucker never even saw Rob coming, and Rob went over the car and the bike over him at probably 45 miles an hour.
Would you believe he survived? Strong will, that one. The only good thing is that he always dressed in full leathers to ride, so even though almost every bone in his body was broken, he had no road rash. Broken legs in multiple places. Broken arms. Broken pelvis, the bone from which ruptured his colon. Need a miracle? His neck and head were fine.
When Sharon and Chris went to see him the first time, the weekend around Mother’s Day, he had a clear plastic covering over his lower abdomen. You could see… everything. Everything. The doctors had to keep him open so that they could clean him out every day. He was in an induced coma when they went up to Atlanta to see him, and it was scary. Comas, if you’ve never seen anyone in one, don’t look like the restful sleep soap operas and movies would have us believe. There’s actually a lot of moving around and involuntary muscle spasms. Of course, since most of his body was in a cast, there wasn’t too much movement. The bed was moving, though; rocking back and forth, side to side, to keep fluids in his lungs from settling. They didn’t want him to catch pneumonia, on top of everything else.
Within a week or so, he had come out of the coma; although he couldn’t talk because of the tracheotomy. That was scary, for him; he didn’t remember anything about the accident. Can you imagine? Just wake up and for a second everything is normal, but then you realize that you can’t move and you’re in a bed rocking back and forth and you’re unable to talk because there’s a tube in your throat? Ugh.
He was doing well. He was recovering quite well. They were talking about walking as soon as the bones in the legs healed; about how long he’d have to wear a colostomy bag (a year) and how lucky he was. And how it was completely the fault of the asshatted fuckwit cocksucker who was driving his car and NOT PAYING ATTENTION.
Late last night, or early this morning, he had a massive pulmonary embolism.
Sharon and Chris are on their way to Atlanta now; the funeral is Sunday afternoon.
He leaves behind distraught family and friends, an Australian Shepard, and two very sweet cats.
Rob’s birthday would have been June 14th.
Death always makes me want to hug everyone around me and tell them I love them. Because you really just never know how long you’ll be able to tell them, or that they’ll be able to hear you.
Photos from Liz (thank you!), added 16 June 2004
“Here’s one of Rob waiting to see if Amanda is really going to put those legs behind her ears…”
“Typical Rob…
”
“Tim and Rob at the reception…”
The trackback URL for this entry is: http://www.snarkland.com/index.php/trackback/1793/jdHguT8E/
Trackbacks:
No trackbacks yet.Comments:
These things make me want to hug everyone too. It reminds us that the little things that annoy us everyday don't matter so much. I know it was less than a year ago that I came to discover what a Pulmonary Embolism was and that scared the shit out of me. Although this is a completely different situation, this is a very startling reminder for me.
I'm sorry for the loss of Rob. I've noticed him in your photos before. My condolences.
When my father passed away a few years ago, a good friend said that Heaven is what others think of you after you're gone. Rob's friends obviously thought the world of him.
Thanks for having this site where this was posted...this was the only place that a search proved fruitful in finding out more about the last days of my friend.
all lowercase, a la rob.
I'd lost touch with him many years ago, but Laura had sent a few emails and had meant to get together over Dragon*Con each year for a while but never did. Damn.
Do you know where he is buried, if so? We'd love to visit and put flowers out, if appropriate. Send email if you can. Thanks.
Here's to Lying, Stealing, Cheating and Drinking.
If you must lie, lie to save a friend.
If you must steal, then steal someone's heart.
If you must cheat, cheat death.
And if you must drink, then drink with me!
Happy Birthday, Rob. You are missed.
I guess I'd like to say a couple of things too.
I was a good friend of Rob's in high school, and I am
sorry that he's gone. Back then, Rob & I really wanted
to start a band, but we didn't have the instruments.
Then he actually got a drum set, but somehow we never got the band together. Too bad. I will always remember listening to The Smiths' "How Soon Is Now" with him on bus trips to out of town football games. We did some gaming back then, too. We had lots of laughs, and now I will have to settle for those memories.
Good bye, Rob. Maybe, if we're lucky, we'll get a chance to hang out again sometime.
-Matt
About three weeks ago I came across a tape with phone messages from high school(it's the pack rat in me). He had two on there, both emphasizing his dislike of answering machines:
"*beep* Oh my god, i-i-i-it's a machine! I don't know if I can handle this, oh my god, I dunno, maybe if I hang up it won't listen to me, oh my god. . . oh dear"
"*beep* My place, five-thirty, be there or your character becomes a pile of mush I-hate-this-fucking-machine-thank you."
Though it was painful in the reading, thank you very much for posting, Lorena.
Can someone who was there relate the party yesterday for those who couldn't make it?
Buck
The other player at that session I remembers so clearly was Jennifer Campbell Smith, who also died a little over five years ago now.
That gaming group really sustained me throughout high school. Now it has a gaping hole, right through the center.
Though we had not seen each other or communicated directly for quite some time, I will miss Rob very much.
Lorena, I second Buck's thanks for your posting.
Peace,
Reid
I just wanted to say that I am really touched and amazed and blown away by reading everyones remembrances of this great man. I hope he had some small inkling of how very loved he was in this life, even by people who hadn't seen him in years. Thank you, all of you, for sharing. I'm laughing, I'm tearing up, reading. I want to give all of you hugs, even though I've never met any of you.
Be well. Keep sharing, keep talking. Keep loving.
-Lorena
Michelle read a lovely, touching piece that she had written for Rob’s memorial service that was held on May 30th. (If anyone has a copy of that, would you mind posting it?) She spoke of a web of ropes that hold us all together, Rob being the knots of that web. Everyone at the service, at the birthday party, and most everyone reading this blog entry share at least one thing in common: Rob. Michelle pointed out that some of the ropes of that web are strong, but many are frayed or weak. So keep an eye on those ropes in your life that bind you to your friends. I sense a lot of ‘I should haves’ and ‘I wish I would haves’ while reading these comments. Keep in touch with the people who are special to you, because you might not get a chance to hug that person again, or tell him that you think of him often.
Kristie told me that Gato Bizco will be hanging up a couple of photos of Rob, along with the text of Michelle’s eulogy. Stop by and have a grilled biscuit some Saturday morning. You can bet Rob’s spirit will be there with you!
I will remember Rob best for our trip to Mardi Gras the weekend before Fat Tuesday, and us watching out for each other as we got particularly wasted. Hopefully his life was filled with love and joy and it is sad to see it burn out so.
I remember that campaign Reid mentioned. Rob played "Puck", a superhero hockyplayer who lived at the YMCA until our team got a base to call home. His mask had a big smiley face on it. He had a bunch of different specialty hockey pucks that he would whack with his stick. Some exploded, some shone with blinding light, but my fave was the glue-puck that would explode and entangle everyone in a sticky mess.
I remember, during college, Rob telling me that his Mom said "If I give you $20 will you get a haircut?" and he replied, "No, I'll go buy some food." Poor and pragmatic; a true college student, right down to his Bauhaus t-shirt.
And then there was the time during what was billed as a particularly fine meteor shower (I had either just come back or was fixing to head out to watch) that he called me up at 2 in the morning. When I answered, he demanded "what the hell are you doing up?" as if I had robbed him of the pleasure of waking me up. Rob had me drive half an hour to his folks' place to pick him up, then take him back to my place to watch falling stars.
He was an A-1 moocher. But he was a good friend too. He got on well with Jennifer, as I recall. I remember the three of us hanging out after some movie at the mall; we came home "the back way" and they accused me of trying to get them lost. I wasn't, and that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Lost track of him pretty quickly after school, and was always amazed when I bumped into him. I wish I could have gotten to know the latest iteration of Rob.
Addendum: Thanks for the post, Sharon. I wish I could have been there.
For the person that asked where Rob was buried... His mom had Rob cremated. She has his cremains and they sat in a place of honor in the house on Monday with Rob's tan tobaggan cap on top of the urn. Nina would probably love to hear from Rob's friends, no matter how far back you go. Probably one of the best ways to pay respects to Rob would be to visit Nina and share war stories.
There was some talk towards the end of the night about some sort of show to be planned... but that could've been the beer talking... (or at that point, perhaps the Mezcal...)
I'll see what I can find in the way of photos, but since our scanner's on the fritz it will likely take a while. At the time he went out of his way to avoid cameras so such pictures were rare.
I'm surprised ol vengeful me hasn't thought to ask before, but was the other guy charged?
http://fairmountfair.com/flagpole/main/articles.php?fp=67
I don't know if there's any interest, but if folks have essays or maybe a few photos, I would be willing to put up a page for Rob. I had a friend die a couple of years ago and various folks brought forth photos and written thoughts which were compiled at the site below:
http://www.memoriam.atfreeweb.com/jessica.htm
There is a rope that connects all of us. In some places it’s as thick as could be, braided even. Some parts of the rope are frayed by time and distance, both physical and emotional. There are even parts of the rope that are thin as a thread, but they are still holding together this web of friends, lovers, acquaintances, and family. Rob exists in the knots that hold the rope together. He always will. We can think of it this way; His spirit, his laughter, his stubbornness, his openness, his refusal to judge others, his uniqueness, his love, now exists as a part of the rope. So grab on as tight as you can. Rob is here watching us and the memory of this amazing person is here for us to hold onto.
I can’t believe we’re never going to see him again. There were so many things left unsaid, so many experiences left to revel in, so many songs to be written, jokes to be told, miles to be traveled and hands to hold. We will all learn to live with this empty space in our soul that once was filled to capacity with a man of few words but much love and compassion. At this moment I can’t imagine it, but eventually every single one of us is going to again feel that spark of inspiration and at first we won’t know what it is, but then we will realize that the power of Rob’s memory and influence is slowly but surely filling our hearts. We will be overcome, sometimes with sadness, sometimes with joy, and the only thing that will keep us grounded will be the firm grip that we again plant on the rope. And Rob will smile and toast us in the only way he knows how…up to it, down to it…and so on and so forth. You get the point.
Written by Michelle Thomason on May 28, 2004
Next entry: 100 Acre Personality Quiz
Previous entry: Bottlecap words























