The church was packed full; it was the church of the village Rob lived in and his family still live in. So many people from school, Explorers and his family were there. The flowers at the service formed the shape of a pirate duck, to fit with The Jolly Quacker and the Quacker's duck theme, and the order of service had my painting of The Jolly Quacker (yes, I promise I will explain this at some point) on the outside, and in the inside was a photograph of Rob. There was a group of us who spoke of memories we had of Rob - me, Sam, Laura, Jen, Sarah, Polly, Phoebe, Joel, Curtis, Alex and Matt. So here's what I said:
"Though I have far too many memories to even count that I shared with Rob, I'll always look back and smile at the times we had in Latin class together. He was always the comedic backbone of our class; whether it was his insistence that he was a god and we were all peasants, to saying that everything was either mine or Laura's fault, to his obsession with the blinds and radiator in a certain classroom to an extent that if anyone went anywhere near to adjust them, he would legitimately rugby tackle us to the floor to prevent us doing so. But my strongest memory was an event in Year 10.
Our teacher was later to the lesson, and I think we were supposed to be looking over vocab, or doing work of some kind, while we waited for her to arrive. So, naturally, me and Rob didn't do this. Someone in the class said as a joke that we could throw our bags at the recycle bin, not expecting me and Rob to actually carry this out. We spent a good ten minutes chucking our bags at the recycle bin and trying to intercept shots, keeping a points system on the board; and then we decided to see what would happen if both of us threw our bags at the bin at the same time. The bags hit the bin with extreme force, the bin fell over and paper went everywhere - just as our teacher walked in. There was silence and then the two of us were shouted at very loudly, told that fourteen and fifteen year olds should know better, and we were sent out of the classroom being told that we would be talked to once she had addressed the rest of the class. Throughout all of this, me and Rob just avoided eye contact and were trying desperately not to laugh; the moment we were left outside we exploded into hysterics.
Rob is one of the best friends I've had or ever will have. He was always smiling and always laughing, and always able to brighten up your day no matter what - even in the numerous times I saw him at the hospital and hospice - which is why this is one of my favourite memories, because I can't look back on it without smiling."
I have that pinned up on my magnetic whiteboard now. I wrote it out on a piece of lined paper, nothing special, but it will always be special now; it's a physical permanent favourite memory of Rob. Although I obviously have hilarious memories from the hospice and hospital, I think I love this one particularly because it was just about him being him, not him being ill, and it makes me smile, just like Rob always did; so it embodies everything I want to remember about him.
Everyone had different memories (such as Joel and the story of the bubbles and the fan) and I was so proud of everyone for not breaking down into tears. We were in bits when we were sat down watching the slideshow with Rob's favourite band, The Hoosiers, playing, but that was OK, it was expected; I'm just so proud of everyone for not crying when we were speaking. I'm fairly sure if Rob could see us now he'd be like "For god's sake, stop crying, man up peasants!" and that makes me smile and keeps me strong.
After the memorial we all went across to the village hall where we ate cake, drank tea and sat and talked together. It was obviously a horrible thing, the most horrible thing I've ever had to do, but it made me appreciate how lucky I am with the school year group I have; the majority of our year was there, giving out hugs to each other in the bucketload and being supportive and amazing. I hope this strength continues.
Rob, I sincerely hope you're having a good time up there, if you're up there moaning and we're all going through this for you moaning I will not be best pleased! I love you, mi boi, forever, and I know one day I'll see you again. For now, I'll make the most of my life here, doing what you couldn't do; but I'm not scared of death anymore. How could I be scared of death when death means to me seeing one of my best friends again? I couldn't be, is the simple answer. This was our final farewell to Rob, and I think it was perfect. I hope everyone else felt the same.
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