Bob was my big brother, my defender and advocate, the guy my Mom would call when she couldn't find me. He'd find me, warn me what's up, dutifully return me home, then stick around for the fireworks to take the heat off me. For the better part of my life Bob has ALWAYS been there, consoling, cajoling, encouraging, and like the big brother, always keeping it real. His house was my house, even helped him pick out the one in Constance Bay where we shared many a great BBQ and even more great stories. He traveled, I traveled, but we always met back at the homestead. Home is where the heart is and Bobby always had mine. Love him dearly, will miss him terribly, and look forward to the day when the stories resume. As usual, Bob's heading out on that journey before me, but I know that when we meet again he'll be waiting, probably a cold brewski in hand, to give me the latest update on the status of the universe. Love him always.