This is Rob's Eulogy as written by our brother Dave. It varied slightly in
the telling. Dave did a great job of it.
This copy was provided via our sister Marjorie.
ROBERT DUNCAN STEVENS
Welcome.
We’re here to celebrate Robert Duncan
Stevens, a unique and creative man whom we loved.
If we’re honest in our appraisal, though, we would have to start by
admitting that Rob could be a real pain in the anatomy, but he was our pain in
the anatomy.
In describing Rob, it occurred to me that he
was like Clark Kent/Superman. During
the day he was a friendly paint retail salesperson, but on the way home, he
would slip into a telephone booth and transform into a ball of creative energy.
Here are a few things you may not know about
Rob:
First, he was a music composer.
He had a large number of original compositions on his computer exploring
various styles. In December, he
worked with my son, Peter, who had written a composition for a class at school. Peter ended up with a stronger price and a deeper
appreciation of his uncle.
He was working with another nephew, Derek,
writing a new comic book with super heroes and villains.
They collaborated on ideas and Derek was the illustrator.
He also thought up cartoons that I was
illustrating.
In addition, he had been writing a fantasy
novel for years.
He researched and developed theories about
subjects such as Atlantis in Indonesia, Arthur and Camelot, the Agglutinative
language group as it originated with the sons of Noah in Asia Minor, and even a
connection between the Plains of Nasca in Peru with Antarctica.
He also wrote and had partially produced a
video explaining his theory of how A. A. Milne had used Winnie the Pooh as a
means of propaganda for the British Empire. He hired an actor and a video crew
to shoot the footage at the Burnaby Village Museum, where Colin is the curator.
He was athletic and over the course of his
life, he played hockey, skied, did scuba diving and was the proud owner of a
sail board. (Mom seems to recollect
that whenever he went sail boarding, the wind would disappear, giving him
practice at paddling around.) At
Shawnigan Lake School on Vancouver Island, he played soccer and rugby; in fact,
he captained the second rugby team in his senior year.
His coach described him as a tenacious tackler, but it was this tackling
that caused him to only play in the first and last game of the season because of
a broken collarbone.
He was an avid, well-informed hockey fan.
One of the nicest gifts that he received from Mary and Gord was a set of
four tickets for the Canucks playing Chicago in January of this year.
He took Ashley, Derek and myself out for the evening.
He was pretty sick, but he enjoyed the evening.
All we needed was for the Canucks to have won.
In many ways, Rob was a Renaissance Man,
perhaps born outside his time of choice. He
would probably have felt more at home as a chivalrous knight in the service of a
fair and noble king, or as one of the fellowship from Lord of the Rings.
Robbie was born special. He was born in ROME, ITALY, July 18, 1962.
We all remember the cute little blonde who was
added to our family, but Mom remembers the nights spent under the Italian stars
trying to quiet down a colicky baby.
In Nova Scotia, he was a bright, happy child,
who loved the park down by Lake Banook. Somewhere
in those years, he developed a tendency to sneak down on Christmas morning to
open presents early. Colin set a
battery-operated doorbell in a wrapped box with the instructions, “To Be
Opened First”. Mom and Dad were
awakened early by a loud ringing that Rob could not shut off.
In Winnipeg, it was the summer cottage at
Lake-of-the-Woods that gave Rob his fondest memories. He loved to swim, fish and wander in the woods.
This desire for solitude in nature continued throughout his life. When
the cancer in his esophagus had grown to the extent that he could not swallow,
he longed for water; to be surrounded by it; immersed in it.
So, on the May long-weekend last year, Rob, Gordon (another nephew) and I
went swimming in Wonnock Lake in Maple Ridge.
Aside from the hypothermia, it was great.
Rob inherited intelligence and a quick mind
from his parents, as was well demonstrated in Germany where he was placed in a
German-speaking school without any preparation. He did well in his courses and Marjorie even remembers his
ability to communicate early on with the German police when he got himself in a
little misunderstanding.
During this time, he and I wrote letters to
each other while I was in college. We
both loved Lord of the Rings, so part
of our letters were translated into Elfin Runes from Tolkien.
He must have memorized them, because I had pages to translate, whereas
all I sent was a paragraph or two.
At Shawnigan Lake, he was awarded the Most
Improved Student of the Year for Grades 11 and 12, while in his first year.
He had many stories to tell about the school, but one of the better lines
he had was in a phone call home: “Dad,
the car is wrecked ... but the DEER IS OK!”
In 1985, with Andrea, he became the proud father of
Ashley, his own cute little blonde baby.
Rob attended Langara and UBC, where he graduated with
a Bachelor of Arts in History. Probably
the best thing about these years, though, was that he met Cynthia Chew at
Langara. They were married in 1994.
Rob and Cynthia spent part of a year in
Singapore with her family where he developed a real affinity for Cynthia’s
grandmother on her father’s side and for Linda Chew’s father, a retired sea
captain. A generous gift from
Cynthia’s parents, Robert and Linda, was the use of a beautiful apartment on
the 27th floor overlooking False Creek during Rob’s battle with cancer.
He had some days when he was difficult, but we saw how bravely he fought
his final battle. We’re proud of
our Rob.
Mary remembers my family’s last visit to the
Palliative Care Facility. She
watched Rob interact with each of my children and was particularly struck with
how he talked to my youngest child, Andrew.
Rob was worried that Andrew would be overwrought with anxiety about him.
He was perceptive to Andrew’s fears and, after defining the work
overwrought”, encouraged him. Mary
later wrote in her journal, “I sit in quiet amazement and wonder when my
“baby” brother had grown up to become the caring, sensitive man I now
see.”
Family was very important to Rob, and he had special
interest in his nieces and nephews. Neil imagined that he would encourage each
of you by saying, “Carpe Diem”, or “Seize the Day”.
Three of the special people in Rob’s life
were his mother, Estelle, his third doctor; Ashley, his beautiful daughter; and,
Cynthia, his loving wife.
One day in December, I had a long talk with Rob
about his spiritual journey and when he finished, I asked him, “Where are you
at now that you’re facing death?” He
responded by saying, “I just want to be in God’s kingdom.”
We prayed together for that. Now
Rob can take all his questions right to the source.
We love you, Rob.
Rest peacefully, my brother.