Rob of the Bens, Glens and Passes

Rob MacLost (of the Bends, Glens, and Passes)

Awards:

Jambe de Lion - Jul 11 AS 27 / 1992

Golden Blossom - Oct 12 AS 27 / 1992

Goutte de Sang - Jul 19 AS 32 / 1997

Memoria:

---

My friends

I preface this post with an apology.

It is, I find, terribly hard to type or compose when you are crying.

Regardless of what words I use to try to Honor Rob, I know in advance they are inadequate.

So I'm sorry if I do not do you justice Rob, but I will try my best.

Within the tavern common room, the evening's patrons are quick to notice a gray haired hospitalier enter with tears of sorrow streaming from his eyes and hand, clutching a ribbon upon which printing is visible.

As has become custom, silence falls as he walks to the Scroll of Honor and adds another ribbon to the host that hangs below the simple phrase of the main scroll.

"In Honor of those who have gone on Before!"

A serving wench approaches silently, and tries to hand the monk a tankard of his favorite 'dark'.

Tears continue to run down his cheeks as he motions away the tankard and asks in a shaken voice for a cup of the 'water of life' that the Scot's distill, for this is a toast to departed kin that requires Scotland's finest.

When a full cup of the drink is in his hands, he stares into it's depths and tries to control his emotions long enough to deliver a proper toast for a passed on valued, personal friend.

"M'lords, M'ladies, Royals, Peers, Nobles and others here gathered I pray you attend."

His normally loud voice can barely be heard, even in the silence that fills the room.

Clearing his throat Aaron tries again.

"In our lands there lived and worked one of the best of the grand folk who fill the Kingdom that is An Tir.

A man who for decades gave of his time, his knowledge, the sweat of his brow and most importantly, his humor and heart to all he met in the course of his travels about this, our land.

Be it newcomers that he and his Lady taught and helped or students that he guided through the mystery of his main craft. Or the Nobles, Peers and Royalty who sought his opinion and skills, He gave unstintingly of himself.

I am privileged to have shared households with him and to have had the time, family and friendship that he shared with me and mine.

I speak of the man we all knew as Rob, of the merchant team of Rob of the Bens, Glens and Passes and Anna the Lost.

Rob was first and foremost Anna's best friend, lover and husband. Anna, our hearts and prayers are with you, may your memories of the good times carry you through this time of pain.

Rob was so proud of his children, of being a grandfather to his grand kids and father figure to all of clan McLost (which is famed throughout our Kingdom).

He was also a mentor as well as to the many he taught and shared friendship with through the many years we were lucky enough to have him around.

Addicted to his kilt, with his trademark flowing beard and hair, Rob was a familiar sight at most events as he and Anna traveled throughout An Tir.

Rob had a 'puckish' sense of humor and an appreciation of the absurd antics that oft times infest our kin.

Slow to condemn, but always willing to recognize good work and/or deeds, he was one of the most even tempered folk I knew, and proved it as he and Anna were merchant-o-crats for 30YC.

The most common memory that springs to mind about Rob is his smile, his laughter and his hugs."

We all will miss his hugs.

As Aaron recites the achievements of Rob, he begins to smile through the tears at some of the memories that his words invoke.

"Always undaunted and seldom slowed down by illness or surgery, and he had a few bouts of both of these in the past few years.

Rob lived his life to the fullest and was the most positive person I'd ever met, forever looking forward to the future .

I loved him as a brother!

So charge your cups, my friends, and join with me in toasting the man who was of Laurel skill,knowledge and talent, one who did service far in excess of Pelican requirements and who brightened the places he frequented with the joy he shared unstintingly.

For they will mourn his passing from An Tir's dew dripped shores to the pennant covered fields of Pennsic, and quite a few laces in between.

May Rob be welcomed to the heaven he aspired to and may he find there all the joy and happiness he has more than earned."

Aaron raises his cup and drains it till it's empty, then smashes it in to the fireplace so that it can never again be used for a less noble purpose.

"My heart goes out to Anna and all of their family I can but hope that the good memories of Rob's life will sustain them all through the grief this loss creates.

I will offer all my prayers for these kin and would ask of you all to join with me in the fashion of each of your beliefs.

Thank you for allowing me to be the one to Honor my friend Rob."

The Monk turns, opens the door and as he leaves for the Cathedral to do the duties of his office, the sounds of highland bagpipes waft through the tavern door as the passing on of a true Scot is recognized in traditional fashion.

As the black robed figure slowly climbs the steps of the Cathedral towards the light shining through the open doors above him, the lilting, slow paced music of the pipes echo's through the square heralding Rob's homeward journey.

Sleep well Rob, I will, in reality, raise my cup to a good and true friend.

I will also miss you greatly.

Good night my brother.

Aaron

---

This gentle's name has been entered on the Scroll of Honor - An Tir Remembers.