" THERE WILL BE NO GOODBYE"

Robert James Rogers
Born Sept.8,1931
Died June 19,2002
His father was George Rogers
His mother was Dora Marie Mousette
He had a brother named George
He had two sisters, Isabel and Deborah

He had six children and their spouses,
Nine Grandchildren and five Great Granddaughters.

Roberta & Gary
(Gary,II and Celia)
(Mackenzie and Jordan...Amanda and Rebekah and Courtney)

Pamela
(died at six weeks)

Paul & Susan
(Shawnah and Robert)

Kimberly
(died at six weeks)

Steven & Lynn
(Jessica...Violet and Cynthia)

Johnina & Donald
(Alisha and Allan)

October 1951 he married.
On June 22,1952 he became my father.
I became his daughter.
The eldest of his six offspring that reached birth.
Two dying shortly after their birth.
Girls, dying in his arms.
Four others survive.

He was a kind man.
A man of few words.
A man stable in his ways.
A simple man with simple tastes.
He never put on airs.
Never pretended to be more than he was.
In all he undertook he did his best.

We lost each other for a season,
Through no fault of our own.
Each living with unanswered questions.
Our lives not touching for many years.
Though daily missing that touch.
Missing the life we had shared.
This is my Living Memorial to him.
My father,

ROBERT JAMES ROGERS

I compiled my memorial over the last eight months of his life.
Eight months that had us united,
As if we had never been apart.
As if we had never been broken-hearted,
At the silence of the other.
Eight months in which to reconcile forgiveness,
Towards those who sought to destroy our relationship.

Eight months for the Lord to recompense,
The loss of eighteen years.
Eight months in which to give him love.
To bless him and draw him into my life.
To share with him the goodness of the family he lost.
Eight months...
Only eight months.

Most days I am grateful for the time I had to visit him,
To call him, to send him gifts.
We had Thanksgiving, Christmas, Valentine's Day
Easter, and Father's Day.
His last Father's Day is the most precious to me.
I will share the story another time.
It is still too fresh to gaze upon for any length of time.
Most days I am grateful for the eight months,
To live as if each day was the last.
Yes, most days I am a grateful child.
But then there are days I cry...
Eight months, only eight short months.
Oh, Father in Heaven, why only eight months?

" THERE WILL BE NO GOODBYE "
Was completed before he passed away.
Even while I listened to his final breath.
I was completing the final touches.
Creating a folder for those to carry away.
It was read at the Memorial Service.
It was my contribution to honor him.
It brought me much joy to create.
A copy is on the bulletin board at the Sugar Mill,
Where he worked for twenty years.

In the last week of my Daddy's life I was the one he needed.
It was MY turn to GIVE.
I did not let anyone take it away from me.
I will tell you of that last week.
How he passed from this life to the Father's arms.
Right there in his bedroom, on the little bed he liked so much.
(Which I brought home with me.)
He passed peacefully.

I was listening to his final breath.
My finger on the pulse at his neck,
And softly singing a song he always liked, "SUPPERTIME"
Two days earlier he told me things he wanted to be done.
Little things that were not in the Will...
I made sure those things happened.

I came away with a most precious gift.

In December, 2001, my Daddy kept asking me
what I wanted him to leave me.
In 32 years of marriage I never asked him
for anything material.
There was nothing I needed.
I have a fine husband who provides
my needs and a LOT of my wants.
But my Daddy wanted to give me something
when he was gone.
Something of himself.
Just being with him for such a short time was all I wanted.
And praying for him to be healed.

He asked me what became of the Shadow Box he made me.
(It was destroyed in one of our MANY packouts)
So, Daddy said, " I want to give you my Shadow Box."
I said, "Yes, that I would like that."

Then he kept asking me if I wanted a picture
hanging on his wall of a Spanish lady.
I kept laughing, " No, Daddy, I don't want the picture!"
Finally I realized he was playing a game with me.
"Did you make the frame?" I asked.
"YES! he said,laughing!!!
So I said,"YES, I WANT THE PICTURE!!!" (ha!ha!)

(later my s-i-l, Lynn found the true owner of the picture,
I gave it to her BUT kept the frame.)

I did not go there to gain a thing.
He wanted to GIVE!
One afternoon we spoke seriously.
About all that had gone past in the last eighteen years.
Feeling anxious for the time there was left, I said
"Daddy, there is something I do want."
"What is going to happen AFTER?"
"After what?" he said.
" After the Cremation?"
(That was his wish and I respected it)

He made a remark that broke my heart,
BUT I'll not share that again on these pages.
I told Daddy that I wanted him.
He said, "What? My ashes?"
I said," Yes."
He bowed his head for a few moments.
Then let a few tears fall.
Looking at me he said, " No one else has asked for me."
" I want you," I said.
"Well then,you'll get me.
I know you'll take care of me,"he said.
Soon after Christmas 2001, he placed it in his Will.
He made the changes he wanted.

At the reading of the Will it was stated,
I LEAVE MY REMAINS TO MY DAUGHTER,
Roberta Lee Rogers Wilcox.
I can tell you when she read my name
my eyes filled with tears.
Tears of relief.
Tears of finality.
Tears that no one ever again could take him from me.
Daddy had kept his word, as always.
All I could do was look at my hands and smile.
Such a sweet peace washed over my soul.

I only had to choose the Urn I wanted.
I did.
A beautiful Cherry Wood Urn.
Quite fitting for a Cabinet-Builder/Formica man & Carpenter.
(that is what he called himself)

His Urn sits in a glass cabinet with two dried roses
and his glasses from when he was a very little boy on top.
Polished to a beautiful shine.

So...God smiled and recompensed me.
I brought Daddy home.
I came away with the most precious, most priceless gift.
I came away with Daddy.

When we get 'twinkled' we will be together in Heaven.
That was my first concern November, 2001.
He told me all about when he got saved
as a boy at the age of 12.
No one else had asked about his Salvation either.

While I was with him we went
to a little church around the corner.
The last time he was able to go was most special.
We walked in and there on the table
was The Lord's Supper.

My Daddy grabbed my hand and said
with tears in his eyes.
He said " It has been over THIRTY YEARS
since I have taken The Lord's Supper.

My heart was bursting in my chest.
Sorrow for my Daddy's lost years with The LORD
and the joy that our Father in Heaven
would give me this precious gift.

Then when he was too ill to attend,
Pastor Simmons would visit him.

The Lord kept His promise,
Of reconciling my father to me.
His promise...

" To appoint on to them that mourn in Zion,
to give unto them beauty for ashes,
the oil of joy for mourning,
the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;
that they might be called trees of righteousness,
the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified."
Isaiah 61:3

" Say to them that are of a fearful heart,
Be strong, fear not:
behold, your God will come with vengeance,
even God with a recompense; he will come and save you."
Isaiah 35:4

My Daddy has been gone 4 years.
I have come to terms that he is gone.
Tho I miss him terribly and still miss what we lost.
I KNOW where he is.
I KNOW we will meet again.
I am healed of the original loss of eighteen years.
I harbor no ill in my heart.
Nor bear a grudge for the three women responsible.
Nor for the actions of others
suffering under the stress of his dying.

I only had eight months to prepare to say goodbye.
After just being able to say hello again.
My Father in Heaven had given me another promise.
He IS in Control and He sees ALL.
He will pass judgement as He sees fit.

"Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves;
but rather give place unto wrath;
for it is written, Vengeance IS mine;
I will repay, saith the Lord."
Romans 12:19

I can accept that.
My Father in Heaven has NEVER broken a promise to me.
Judgement does come on the Earth.
People who do harmful despicable things to others,
DO have a time of suffering that comes their way.
Even if they proclaim they dont believe it.
It is called Reaping & Sowing.
My God is ALWAYS taking care of His Children.
I am one and He WILL right the wrongs in my life.

~ BY ~
Roberta Rogers Wilcox
@2001