In Memory of My Dad

I have been compelled for quite awhile to pay a tribute to my dad, Bob Dorr. What better place than here, where thousands of people could see my tribute, and know that a man named Bob Dorr once existed, and was someones' father, spouse, grandfather, friend, and what have you. If you have gone through my web site, you know that I have a chihuahua named Bob. To satisfy your curiosity--yes, he was named after my dad. Bob was born seven days after my dad died.

I miss my dad. I have a lot of memories; both good and bad. We did not always see eye to eye on more than one occasion, but, with age (both of us), we reached an unspoken truce with each other, and accepted each other's ways.

My dad succumbed to the disease that killed his father, my grandfather, which was diabetes. He was a diabetic for 20 to 30 years, and it eventually robbed him of everything that brought joy to his life. Out of all the losses, his biggest loss was his sight. You see, my dad was a connoisseur of the written word. He never had less than five books  lying about his house in various stages of being read. It is from my dad that I received the gift of the love of books. He was also  extremely independant. In the last ten years or so of his life, diabetes slowly robbed him of his independance, and he began to have to rely on the help of others. He so hated that! My dad's other love was his garden. He could grow things anywhere. His thumb was so green, it'd blind you if you weren't careful. He loved roses. I suppose that I got that from him, too. It broke his heart when he couldn't tend to his garden anymore.

On August 6, 2006, right after Tiger Woods won the Buick Open, my dad suffered a major heartattack and a massive stroke. I got the call several hours later. My stepmother, who had weathered many such emergencies over the past ten years, didn't think he was going to pull out of this one. Early the next morning I headed to Albuquerque. I prayed to God to do his will. My dad hung on until I and my siblings could get there. He hung on through the night. On August 8, 2006, just after lunch, my dad's body gave out. He died peacefully without regaining consciousness. The man who had been the driving force in my life was gone.

I miss him!