Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only thing moving
Was the eye of the blackbird.
-Wallace Stevens
They say stories often begin with their endings. So I start this with the end of my father’s life, on October 24th, 2006. Now, as the day approaches a year later, I find that the date represents a beginning wrapped into an ending; a figure 8 of memory, life, and death.
My hope with this blog is for those of us who knew and loved Bob to have a place to tell our stories: the stories that started on that day, the stories that changed that day, and the stories of Bob’s life and our times with him. For those of you who didn’t know Bob in life, perhaps this is a way for you to get to know him in some way, and what he means to those of us whose lives he touched. I think that this blog will gradually turn into general writings that I want to share with you about life. As a good friend of mine reminded me, my Dad is with me in everything I do, in every breath.
I appreciate your idea very much. Thank you for initiating.
Yes, I want to share stories and thoughts about Bob and my special time with him.
For the beginning I just want to share a quote from Antoine Saint Exupery’s Little Prince. You can replace the word ’star’ with the word ‘crow’ and you will know how I feel often:
“In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night . . . You–only you–will have stars that can laugh!”
And he laughed again.
“And when your sorrow is comforted (time soothes all sorrows) you will be content that you have known me. You will always be my friend. You will want to laugh with me. And you will sometimes open your window, so, for that pleasure . . . And your friends will be properly astonished to see you laughing as you look up at the sky! Then you will say to them, ‘Yes, the stars always make me laugh!’ And they will think you are crazy. It will be a very shabby trick that I shall have played on you . . .”
I don’t think that one needs to have known Bob Reineke more than in passing to understand what a legacy he leaves behind in his remarkable daughter, Robin Reineke. It is rare that you meet a person of such astonishing character and passion.
Cheers Bob. Wherever you are, you did a great job.
This is the very first blog for me to join in. In fact, I had to ask Jutta what a blog might be and how to participate. Nevertheless I will try my best for I like the idea of keeping our joint memories alive …
I remember a day when Bob and me were having – and enjoying – a stroll around the city of Hanau by bicycle. Hanau itself isn’t very much to look at, at least since world war II, but around it you will find quite a lot of interesting and nice places: castles and park-grounds, the river Main and quarries reconquered by nature, just to mention a few. In a circle around the main railway station, you can visit them all. So we did.
One of the last places we planned to visit ( dinner excluded ) were these quarries. Arriving there, the weather seemed unreliable, but we decided to take a walk around them on a narrow path. It really ist a nice and unusual scene, so we were walking, talking, watching and nosing here and there, listening to the sounds of birds and half-drunken youths on a rubber dinghy. It was there were the thunderstorm caught us, and within a few minutes, it was raining hard. From us two, I was the lucky one, for I had a poncho, whereas Bob only came with a rain jacket. We crouched to stay as dry as possible, the poncho was enough for me and the bags … then the rain ceased, and we rose again. Bobs trousers obviously were soaked, and so were his shoes. This is a situation were most people would start to complain, I think. Not Bob. I still remember his happy and laughing face when he took off his boots and turned them to pour out the water …
I realized I’ve woefully not yet commented on here. I just wanted to say, tardily, that this is a beautiful, valiant, gutsy blog. I’m cheering you along the way.