I know everyone thinks their child is wonderful but Rob truly was a kind loving son.

He and I shared the love of the NY Giants as he and his father shared the love of NASCAR. Football Sundays were the best at our house. Rob and his buddies were always there. All rooting for different teams.

Rob always did for others especially if they were his elders. Rob tried to play Mr. tough guy but he had a tender heart that he shared with me many times. He had a sense of humor that could bring a smile to your face and make any moment better just by being himself.

Rob was a hard worker and very dedicated to his career at PSEG and was loved by his co-workers. Rob was a protective older brother to his sister Cait. Rob shared his life with Nicole. He was in the prime of his life making good money, had purchased a new beautiful home and enjoyed his “toys” up until this virus grabbed him.

It will be a year on Oct 16th 2022, that Rob was called home. He fought hard but God loved him more. In his memory, to keep it alive, we have started a fund to help the Hockey Team he played on at the school he graduated from. Can’t let this virus win so I will live for Rob and never stop saying his name.

Today is the first day of school in our county. I can feel the anticipation and nervousness hanging in the air like a fog on this wet August morning. Neighborhood children sporting new shoes and carrying fresh lunchboxes make their way to school, and I can’t help but be transported to my own grade school days.

Growing up in the 60’s and 70’s, we were lucky to live just two blocks from school. My brother, sister, and I were “walkers” as they called us, and we didn’t need lunchboxes because we were allowed to go home for lunch. Even my dad came home to eat, driving from across town. We all looked forward to Mom’s noon-time menu.

We arrived in staggered shifts, and she would have a hot, steaming plate of heaven waiting for each one of us. I remember the large cast-iron skillet filled with freshly fried potatoes, the edges crispy and golden. I loved Mom’s homegrown stewed tomatoes, warm and tangy, ladled over creamy mashed potatoes and served with thick, salty bacon.

During the winter months, we were greeted with bowls of beef and homemade egg noodles, a tradition handed down from Mom’s German roots. Making the noodles was a two-day project, as she and Dad would hand-cut every noodle and then lay them out to dry.

When I was a child, lunches at home didn’t seem like something to be cherished. However, looking back now, I can truly appreciate those hectic but sacred family times. It was a 30-minute retreat in the middle of a busy school day.

It must have been a difficult chore for Mom, barely getting us off to school in the morning before she had to think about what to cook for lunch. She didn’t think feeding us at lunch was anything special, but she was actually giving us a wonderful gift. Those sights, smells and tastes have remained with me all these years.

It comforts me to think of Mom like that, bustling around in our warm and welcoming kitchen. We lost her in January of 2021 when the world was neither.

Over the last year and a half I had the chance to really get to know my Grandmother, Roberta. It’s amazing how having a grocery delivery service can bring two people together.

We would spend hours on the phone ordering from Walmart and Aldi’s, mixing in stories from her life and mine. I learned about her younger years before she was married, the places she loved to visit, the people in her life that made a huge impact, amongst other tidbits of information that would flood her mind in our conversations.

She liked to joke that she has two modes, serious and delirious … I think she just liked having fun and being a goofball. I got to see that in action when I was able to spend three days with her just two months ago. Time I’m so grateful to have had with her.

She loved the fact that I was such a thrifter and bargain shopper like her, and could not get over how food prices had risen. That didn’t stop her from getting her apple fritters and donuts though!

She had a heart of gold, if she got any unexpected finances she made sure to donate them. She recently asked me to help send bikes to children at St. Joseph’s Indian School, and had so much fun picking out the colors and imagining the kids riding bikes.

She was a stubborn and exhausting but also kind and giving. I recognize those same traits in me, so know there are parts of her living on in those she left behind. I’d say “rest in peace” but Grandma would be happier making some trouble.

For that and so much more … I love you.

Mom washed my hair in the kitchen sink when I was a little girl. She used Avon shampoo and it smelled so good. Then she convinced me to sit outside to let the sun dry it.
Looking back, I am fairly sure she wanted a break from me. She had 6 kids and probably looked for any opportunity to get a few minutes of peace.

Shortly before I joined the family Candace (at the time my wife to be) and I traveled to meet the family and “Ruby” and get acquainted. After several hours of getting to know everyone at a picnic in the park Candace asked what Ruby thought of me and her response was priceless but on point for her:

“He’s short, but at least he ain’t a Hoosier”

That acknowledgment told me everything. She was a straight shooter who would speak her mind and not be shy about it.

You will be missed and your memory will live on, “Hotrod Granny” —