MEMORIES
ROBERT NELSON BLAIR Born December 4, 1949 Died June 10, 1998 by his wife Bobbie
Bob loved to ride his cycle, which he named MORIAH (because it reminded him of the wind and freedom). He was a member of the Denton ABATE(which was a Motorcycle club), and went on runs with them when ever he had time. He was also an avid Dart player. Bob also wrote POETRY, I will include them here, so all his friends and family will always be able to read them and remember him!!
Hootch joined Bob on September 23, 1998 . Now They Will Always Be Together!
Hootch born September 10,1993 Died September 23, 1998
Bob and I may not have have had a long time together. But the time we did have we lived to the fullest. We could not have loved each other more than if we had been together for and eternity! We had an unconditional love for each other!!! Bob was the type of person who would give you the shirt off his back if he thought you needed it. There was nothing that he would not have done for his friends, even if it met him doing without. That was just the way he was. He was a very Kind, Gentle, Caring and Loving man! He never met a stranger! He was Loved by many people, friends who will never hear his laughter (sometimes a devilish one) or see that smile and wonder what he is thinking!! He always had this gleam in his eye when he was up to something and we all knew it!!
This first poem is one that Bob wrote me before I moved to Texas. He told me to think of him as the house and me as the woman. Then I would know what I met to him!!!! Since his death this Poem has come to mean even more to me!!!!
THE OLD ADOBE HOUSE
My heart had become all weathered and dry Like an old adobe house under a West Texas Sky. The sun, the wind and the storms had taken their toll On this poor adobe house....all battered and worn.
There were many around who said tear this house down! The house wept inside, but made not a sound. It could only think back at the home it had been And the families it had sheltered for years on end.
The families moved on with their lives on a roll And left this house empty, they had taken its soul. So it stood all alone on the outskirts of town The old adobe house made not a sound.
Then came a woman, a bit tattered herself, Who saw the old house as a fountain of wealth. She saw that the frame work was still in its place And she believed in the house as a smile crossed her face.
She moved in and started cleaning the mess Perfecting every inch, never accepting any less. She poured her heart and soul into that old shell Until it bubbled forth as if from a well.
The house started to glow for it had found inner strength From the woman who toiled and went to any length. To bind and support whatever was weak And lovingly polished over ever little streak.
The house was surrounded as the little town grew And it radiated it's love for all to view. The woman lived sheltered, safe and warm The proud adobe house keeping her safe from any harm.
by Robert N. Blair
This next one was written for his mother. I am sure she will treasure this for the rest of her life!
WHAT WOULD MOTHER SAY ?
What would mother say? I often ask myself As I struggle with problems - to get answers off the shelf. It's funny how things become so clear When i picture mother walking with me here.
What would mother do seems to be the guide That keeps me on track, not bouncing from side to side. All the trouble spots I've had through out this life Seems to come from walking alone - trying to handle my own strife.
What would mother feel if I were to shut her out? I know she would hurt - others would pout. But she stays open because she knows the love is there, She has spent her whole life spreading it everywhere.
What would mother be if she could really understand The important part she plays in all that God planned. But she will make no pretence -- and when all is said and done, I'm proud to say this is my mother - this is where i come from!
by Robert N. Blair Frog
Now life's storms are slapping you around, Mercilessly they hit you as harder and harder they pound. Most would give up and say their life was through, But you reach deep down inside and prepare to start anew.
You have a long road to travel with your heavy heart - But look to your friends who have been there from the start. You have always given us so much of yourself, It's our turn to help you and bring you back to good health.
We are the privileged because it's you we have known. Now accept the bounty of that which you've sown. Taste of our strength and sample our love, We now have plenty - because of you - and God above.
Robert N. Blair Frog
Here I stand as I've stood before, A naive little schoolboy not knowing the score. I put you first and care for your every need And watch your confidence grow as if from a seed.
When you have grown and are ever so strong The flower blossoms forth to sing it's own song. There lies the earth below at your feet, Proud of the flower that grew from defeat.
But now the flower knows it's own worth It's confidence high since it's total rebirth. It looks not to the soil from whence it came But rather to the sun, to be one and the same.
I have no right to dream about your smile, As it's warmth fills me like liquid in a vial. I can't call you up just to hear your voice, For you have your world, yours by choice.
I have no right to ask for your time Much less dream you could ever be mine. Mine to be ours - forever in one, Through the bad times as well as the fun.
I have no right, I know this is true. It's not your fault what my heart goes through. But let me down easy for I'm battered and worn, And my heart needs some time to heal what's been torn.
Now watch the tattered pieces of heart As they make a patchwork from the torn apart. such a fine thread being used for the mend, May it be strong to last forever on end. Let this fine thread make knots that are strong So this patchwork heart may again feel and belong.
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