Rob was a medical student with Ken, all those years ago, at the University of Toronto. They could have not been more different. Rob was short and round while Ken was skinny and taller. Rob lived with his parents and sister in Forest something, a fancy neighborhood in Toronto, whose parents owned an island on Georgian Bay, while Ken was from a very poor family from Parry Sound, whose only contribution he his education was to darn his socks. But they were fast friends.
During the years, they fished together on the island and drank a lot of beer. Rob was not interested with status. During the summers, he drove a water taxi out of Honey Harbour on Georgian Bay and everyone assumed he was one of the locals, earning a bit of money from the wealthy tourists. He laughed and never let on when folks ordered him around. I visited the island and loved it. We three were good friends.
We moved to Texas in 1964 while Rob stayed in Toronto, where he interned at Scarborough Hospital, then took his Residency in Anaesthesia. While at Medical school Rob never dated, so it was the three of us out together. Two years after graduation he married Jaci and they soon had three children. We saw them once in 1968 and had not seen them since. Friday night the four of us ate dinner together and we had a blast. Now why did we do such a bad job of keeping connected over the years?
Rob still works most of the time but they use the Honey Harbor place too. All evening, from seven until eleven we talked, trying to fill in the details of our lives. His sister was at the island and could not get the boat to start, so five times during dinner Rob had to field the calls and give advice, ending every conversation with her by saying "and don't run into any god damn rocks"!! We roared every time, because that was the Rob we knew and loved. Now Jaci and I will do a better job of staying attached.
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