Robert
by Ian Curtress
It was a
lovely occasion, if one can say a funeral can be
a happy event
But it was. No maudlin, “he’s up there
looking down at us”
Just a series of memories recalling how Robert (Bob)
Musgrove had touched our lives.
I had so many memories over the years but the one
that left it’s mark was in our early years.
We were two close but unrelated families living
just a short distance apart and Bob and I were
the same age, twelve.
We did everything together, almost inseparable.
Made dens, climbed trees, fell off probably
having a fit of the giggles. It was up a tree
when this rather odd moment occurred.
I was on one branch and Bob was on another
resting after a challenging climb.
It was Bob's birthday the following day and I
casually asked if he had any idea what his
parents were giving him.
His reply was odd. He said no idea but it’s
a long parcel being delivered this afternoon.
I waited a moment and replied, if you don’t
know what it is how do know it’s a long
parcel, and being delivered today.
He laughed and said we will see tomorrow.
That was the end of the conversation.
The following morning I was at his house early to
wish him a happy birthday and to give him my gift.
It was a book on all the aircraft designed, built
and flown in the war.
He was very interested in flying and my book was
a huge success.
After other presents had been opened his Father
went to a cupboard, unlocked it
and took out a long parcel. I was surprised for a
moment and looked questionably at Bob
His Father said this present is not a toy and you
will have to be patient while I show you how to
use it and when I consider it safe to use on your
own.
Out of this long box came a lovely air rifle. Bob
and I just stared at this thing of beauty.
He was allowed to hold as it was not loaded and I
don’t think it left his hands for an hour or
more. Then I was allowed a turn. True friendship.
In due course we both became competent and safe.
With many adventures.
Another time perhaps.
Four years passed and they had to move. His
Fathers work. We obviously attended different
schools but corresponded with details of our
lives.
In due course we met up at University renewing
our lifetime friendship.
It was in the library when a second unusual event
occurred.
We were both busy, heads down, with our studies
when Bob went a little pale and quiet.
He said Tim I’ve got to leave at the moment,
I’ll be in touch.
I didn’t hear a word from him until he
returned ten days later.
He said I’m sorry I rushed off like that but
my mother was taken ill and rushed into hospital,
but I’m pleased to say it was not serious
and she is recovering at home.
It was several weeks before I felt comfortable in
asking him how he knew his mother was ill and he
casually said, I just knew
I could see he didn’t want to peruse the
conversation so I never asked again.
We had different career paths in different parts
of the world so although keeping in touch we
never met again until we both retired
Living back in the UK we were just 25 miles apart
and have met up halfway for Sunday lunch the
first Sunday of every month
For 13 years those Sundays have been wonderful
but on the 1st of June 2016 Bob passed away.
Today we said our goodbyes. A bitter sweet day I’ll
always remember
As we left his Wife gave me the aircraft book I
had given him for his birthday. She said Bob said
be sure I received it.
Now I’m sitting in my favourite chair
holding the book and remembering so many
wonderful times but also those two occasions, the
long parcel prediction and knowing his Mother was
ill.
I felt so close to him as I opened the cover.
Inside was hand written the inscription …
This book belonged to Robert Musgrove
Who passed away on the 1st.June 2016 aged 86
years.
I admit to some uneasiness.
It was written in Bobs own distinctive
handwriting!
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