Dear Robin,
I was going to put on a black top this morning (it was the first one I picked up and it was clean) but then I remembered what you thought of dull colours on sad days and picked up a bright pink one instead. I’m sorry I can’t join the people gathered in the Boskapel to share memories of you. I think you would understand.
Dear Tessa,
Should I share with you a memory of Robin talking about you shortly after you first met, the way his eyes lit up, and my delight when I realised he was talking about you? Or perhaps a memory of you turning up at the closing party of Crash last year, hand in hand, exhausted (you had both been ill that weekend I think) and the way you checked in on each other across the room during the evening while both delighting in the company and the music. You are both so strong and full of grace and the way you cared for each other inspires me and always will.
Dear family of Robin,
I’m afraid I never met you and I wish I could have been there today to share memories with you and compare the stories of childhood Robin with mine of him as a man and dancer. His kindness and generosity spoke of a supportive upbringing and I’m sure you were proud of him. I’m proud to have known him.
Dear all who knew Robin,
I hope you heard him play harmonica, or saw him dance, or listened to his stories, or heard him laugh at yours. I hope you tasted his cooking (the experiments and the successes), or wandered Delft markets with him, or chatted over coffee. I hope you have some small or big memory of him that brightens your heart, even if these memories sting a bit right now, they are the ones we will cherish.
Dear Robin,
Thank you for coming to my dance classes. Thank you for telling me when you enjoyed them and for telling me what I could do better when you didn’t. Thank you for your encouragement and for sharing chocolate, music and knowledge with me. Thank you for coming to parties when you didn’t have the energy to dance. Thank you for dancing with me anyway, just because. Thank you for playing harmonica in the corner when you needed to sit down. Most of all though, thank you for your constant reminders to “Make it Funky”. I will, now and always.
Stay funky Dude.
Strength and thoughts with everyone in Roermond today, as well as with those who couldn't make it there.