I'm taking a bit of a break from my consumer talk to instead focus on something very personal--the loss of my good friend Bob Rainey.
It's taken me a while to formulate my thoughts and I'm not sure how I'm going to do, but here it goes.
As many of you saw us report this weekend, Bob lost his battle with colon cancer Saturday morning. It was one of the toughest days for me because I was reporting on my dear friend.
Bob became friends with me and my husband, Greg, the instant he arrived at WCCO four years ago. We all lived downtown so we'd get together often. Whether we were listening to music in Peavey Plaza or watching a sporting event together, we always had a terrific time. You may have seen Bob's smiling face on television. I can tell you what you saw on TV was exactly how Bob was in person. He was a pure joy to be around.
I was with Bob nearly two years ago the day he was diagnosed with colon cancer. I remember escaping to a bathroom to cry because I didn't want him to see me lose it in front of him. From that moment on, I was determined to be a positive force in his life. I really did think and probably had him convinced that he could beat cancer. Bob was young, strong and more importantly, determined to live.
For the first year and a half, you likely noticed his weight loss. What my husband and I saw was his strength. He'd come into work, or fly to Indiana after having scored the first one-on-one interview with Tubby Smith, all after having chemo pumped through his body.
Bob loved his job. To him, coming to work was like taking a break from cancer and the joy he got from being around the players and coaches really helped him get through even the toughest of days.
I think that's part of the reason Bob didn't want to tell anyone what was going on. He needed a safe place--a place to not have to talk about it. He needed an escape.
It was tough for me because I knew how much all of you cared. I knew that if he'd let you in, you'd collectively wrap your arms around him and be there for him. But he insisted, so I decided to honor his wishes. I'm still uncertain if I did the right thing, if I should have pushed harder (especially after reading all of your amazing e-mails!).
Aside from friend and confidant, I often played the role of chef. I don't know how much that helped, but cooking is something I love to do and it was sometimes the only thing I knew to do. Bob always made me feel like I was the best cook in the world. So I'd bring him dinner pretty much weekly.
Each of the last four years we ate holiday dinners together. Bob loved my sweet potato casserole and since my husband didn't like it, I was grateful to be able to send him home with the leftovers.
There are so many things I treasure about our time together. Like when Bob, my husband Greg, and I would just hang out. We laughed, reminisced and talked about the future. No one could imagine how little time we'd have so we made the most of our time together.
Looking back I can honestly say my husband and I got more out of those visits than we ever imagined. Bob taught us to follow our dreams, to be happy in the moment, and with life. He taught us to live, to laugh, and to love.
Bob was never one to complain, that's why it was so hard to see him hurting. I always said to him that I wished I had a magic pill to make the cancer all go away. I hope someday there is and that's why his mom and sister have set up a fund in Bob's honor.
I know Bob is in a better place, free of pain and probably calling games from the best seat in the house. But if I could share the most important thing I learned from Bob it's one of the rules of the game you often learn too late in life--to say what you need to say. Don't wait until someone gets sick to tell them how you really feel. Say it today!
Bob and I had so many great times together and yet we didn't have our conversation until three weeks ago. I'm grateful we did, but don't miss out on your chance.
I miss you dearly Bob and I'm a better person for having you as a friend.
