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Poor Bob

Bob died on Sunday, “unexpectedly at home.” I found out from a group email, sent with the subject line “With great sadness.”

I didn’t know Bob well; I met with him occasionally on business. He was a pleasant guy.

I read his obituary this afternoon, to glean a bit of posthumous insight into his life, even though I’d had no interest in knowing anything about him while he was alive.

He had a father. Aunts, uncles. No wife, no children. People said nice things about him in his obituary guestbook.

There’s nothing remarkable in any of this. Except that Bob died two days after he retired. He was a retirement planner. His own retirement lasted Saturday and most of Sunday.

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7 comments to Poor Bob

  • Donna

    That is absolutely scary. Especially for those of us who work like dogs and are dreaming of “retirement”.. when I retire, I will garden all the time..blah blah blah. Geesh, poor Bob. Maybe I will do some things soon that I was waiting to do “when I retire”.

  • Yeah, no kidding. It’s making me think about the wisdom of all that deferred gratification. If I was Bob I’d be so pissed off. He didn’t even make it to Monday for crying out loud.

  • That’s a heartbreak. The last line is masterful–captures it all. Thank you.

  • Em

    Wow. RIP Bob.
    That’s really tragic, but inspiring too. I wonder how he spent those two days.

  • susie

    Perhaps that is the way Bob wanted it. He found confirmation in his work, his work was completed and so was Bob. God rest his soul…

  • Maybe he was afraid of outliving his savings, thus worked a wee bit too much longer than he should have.