He was Chef Rob to his many students–all of whom adored him. He was Bob to us. He didn’t die from suicide or overdose. He died of kidney cancer. It was so fast and so furious.
Why roses? Every year at Steeple Chase in Georgia, Bob would prepare a menu that he’d send several months in advance. While others in spots next door were eating from buckets of chicken, we were enjoying a 5 star meal made by one of the top chefs in Alabama.
On the round table in the middle of our space was a white linen tablecloth with a bouquet of two dozen roses. It may have been 3 dozen. But boy was it a sight. The menu sat in a frame on the table as did silver serving pieces, porcelain plates and hors d’oeuvres you’d find only in the finest restaurants. That was just the beginning. Entrees out of Southern Living, deserts that would make Martha Stewart feel inadequate. Everything was first class and we all felt so spoiled and so thankful.
When my son Richard graduated from College as a filmmaker, Bob sent a cake decorated like the Oscars with my in-laws along with that dozens of amazing cookies. (I’m going to find that picture!)
Bob had one really important thing in common with Charles. Absolutely nothing was more important that family.
Now Bob’s gone. Although he was 59, he was someone’s son. And that someone was Aunt Janice. In less than 2 years, two of us in the Rogers’ family have suffered the loss of a son. He left behind an equally thoughtful and lovely wife, Jill. They were very dedicated to each other always.
This one’s for you Bob, to honor your beautiful soul.
What is the #griefheart project?
I explain my #griefheart project here.