Eulogy for the Rooster

Robert C. Maudlin, a jack of all trades master of whatever he set his mind to. Whether it was music, computers cooking or poetry, whether he was convenience store clerk, or reservation clerk for one of America’s most renowned hotels, he excelled at whatever he set forth to do. I have asked myself many times where the truly beautiful people in the world are. I am glad to say that I had one as my best friend.
Robert and I spent many hours pondering life’s mysteries and questions, so that we may write a poem or two. Sometimes without saying a single word to each other we would write out two poems that were a complimentary juxtaposition to one another. I would amaze the both of us, let alone anyone having coffee with us as well. I have never before meeting Maudlin met a person so perceptive, caring and sensitive as he was. Recently I have heard the term use “Gentle Giant”. Standing over six feet two inches tall he was all heart. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for his friends. From helping them get to doctors appointments, to helping them get to and from work, to helping them move, he did so without asking anything in return.
 Robert was a man of few words, for what are words compared to actions and reactions? He was the type to let his actions and facial expressions do his speaking for him. I remember a journey to Yellowstone we had been on. He let me drive a portion of the trip in his car for he was exhausted. After switching spots I must have put the car in 2nd gear instead of drive and drove along at freeway speeds, which is detrimental to a motor to say the least. After a few miles I realized that the car was not sounding so good alerted Robert. He reached over and put the car into drive. His facial expression was enough, he had to say nothing. I knew how bad of a mistake I had made. Maudlin being the forgiving person he is though sat in silence for three hundred miles. As we pulled into Jackson Hole he offered to buy us dinner. I told him I would buy us dinner being as I had damaged his car.
Robert Maudlin by definition was the king of spontaneity, which is to say I never knew what an evening would behold. I fondly look back on what we would call poet excursions and wish that every one we knew could have joined in. We would set out and not have anything planned, and we would end up doing something by the end of the evening that neither of had done before. One of these excursions stands out firmly. We left Denver to go to Fort Collins to visit a friend. As was our modus operandi back then back then it was an unannounced visit, and much to our chagrin, it back fired on us when we arrived after a seventy five mile journey, our friend was not home. We got back into the car for the ride back to Denver. Along the way we happened along a dog racing track. We both commented how we had never been to one before. The next thing I know we are exiting the freeway. I paid for out entry and bought us soda pops, and we just observed the first race. The next race I looked at Maudlin and said that we should bet on a dog. We found one with decent odds and we placed our bet and walked back out to watch the race.
The dog we bet on started out in the lead. Robert and I yelled and celebrated but as the dogs entered the final turn out dog dropped back and kept dropping eventually finishing dead last. We were crushed but not deterred at all. We went back to the window and placed our second and last bet of the evening. The dog we decided on was at nine to one odds. We watched the race go and much to our surprise the dog we bet on won. We shouted and jumped like little children on Christmas morning. I went up to the window to collect our big winnings. After we were paid in full we were exactly two dollars ahead in money of what were before pulling into the parking lot. Robert and I were content with our “victory” and we left and returned to Denver.
Robert was, is, and will always be the best friend that I have had. He is here with us today, and I know through many discussions with him, he would not want us to mourn, but he would want us to celebrate. Celebrate life, Celebrate togetherness, and drink it up in draughts. He would want us to live every moment to the fullest. He would have wanted us to remember our fondest memories and keep them close to our hearts. The only comparison of metaphor I can think of to describe it, this wonderful experience we call life, is if we take a few moments and remember the last meteorite we all saw.
How for a fleeting moment the sky brightens and it streaks though the atmosphere only for a fleeting moment. It shares the most intense beauty and color and after that a fond memory of what was seen leaving us in wonderment and amazement. That is what I think of when I think of Robert C. Maudlin. And I must admit that I will never see a meteorite again without thinking of Robert, and how minute and fragile the experience of life actually is.
I will say also that Robert will truly be missed, but I find solace in his own words and I quote “Wherever you go, there I am” And that is true wherever we all go he will always be a part of us. Just like the fond memory of a meteorite. I am proud to have been friends with Robert. I am glad I got to write with him and I am thankful for his influence having been on my life. JTU 1998

PS: I found this in a notebook I was working in, and remember me writing out something in a panic thinking his parents might ask me to eulogize my best friend. I was mortified at the though, but figured I better be prepared. I only wish now that they had asked, for the person or pastor who conducted the memorial service did not capture the truly wonderful soul that Robert C. Maudlin was.

 

 

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[lark1311]

“Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy" - Eskimo proverb

Your last paragraph before the ps made me tear. Beautiful write for beautiful memories.