Roy A. Robinson

Dad passed away peacefully on June 30th, 2015 around 6:30pm. Luckily, I was able to kiss his forehead about an hour earlier and say, “I love you, Dad” one last time while he was still alive. Somehow I knew that was the last time. And somehow I think he heard me say it. He passed away peacefully in Mom’s arms while she was trying to make him more comfortable for the night. His last action was to look in her eyes with clear recognition before taking his last breath.

Dad put up a long and fierce fight against this horrible demon of a disease: glioblastoma multiforme (GBM). Diagnosed mid-November, he went immediately into surgery…and thankfully he came out quickly–and in time for the Packer game…which, you know, is totally a big deal. I mean, you can’t let silly brain surgery get in the way of watching the game! (It’s all good, too…the Packers creamed the Eagles 53-20.) He came out of surgery feeling fine and ready to fight…and telling us all and each how much he loved us. (And trust me, especially after his surgery he told each one of us every chance he got…)

But let’s not focus on the end. (You can read more about that journey on Caring Bridge.)

Let’s focus on Roy’s life. This story starts long ago…

“I don’t remember if I had a curfew. I know we played after dark. We played kick the can.”

Roy had a true life-long friend: Doug Mitchell. In 1959, their families both built homes on South Oakhill Avenue in Janesville, Wisconsin. Roy was about 10 years old (4th grade) and Doug was about 8 (2nd grade). In their adult lives, they’d get together every month, usually at Pizza Hut to shoot the shit and catch up with their busy lives. But as children, they connected on that street as kids, playing games of Monopoly that lasted all summer, cowboys and Indians, and the ever-popular game of all young boys, especially back then: “guns” or “war.” (Pew pew!) They played with a collection of Civil War toys, and during one such game, Roy decided to invent the helicopter…early. (Hey, Doug kept winning the war! He had to do something.) Doug insisted there was NO WAY they had helicopters during the Civil War. …well Roy insisted they were “working on it!” Fair enough, right? (I’m pretty sure Doug has since forgiven him.)

“We had a treehouse on Oakhill Avenue. It was about 5 or 6 boards stuck up in a tree. I built it. It was really dangerous. We almost killed ourselves playing in it.”

Roy and Lynne met, really just kids, around 1968. “The first time I saw Mom, she was reading a book, lying on a chaise lounge in a bathing suit.” (Per Mom: “I was sunbathing! You scared the shit out of me!”) They dated, held hands and drank milkshakes through paper straws. They were married in 1972 and were fortunate enough–to be stubborn enough–to experience 43 years of marital…bliss…? Hey, all marriages have ups and downs, but we all know these two glued their hearts together and never looked back. And they were the best for each other. Through thick and thin. They made it happen and pulled through with surely more appreciation for each other than most people will ever know.

Mom decided she wanted to go to Marquette University in Milwaukee. So, after Dad got his Associates Degree at North Central Technical College in Wausau, he moved to Milwaukee to serve as a well-respected draftsman for Ray Prell, a still-renowned Wisconsin architect. Dad just loved riding his motorcycle right up to County Stadium to watch the Brewers play. He scored games while watching Robin Yount and Paul Molitor…but he was no fair-weather fan. Right up through 2012, he was at every playoff series game, including the “Brew Crew in ’82” World Series.

He was a life-long (and quite possibly the WORLD’S GREATEST) fan of the Green Bay Packers and he never missed a game. He even hiked up to Lambeau to catch a Packer game, no matter the weather…I’ll give you a hint: it’s usually COLD! He even went to watch Packers training camp with Toni in 2013. He was also a big fan of the Badgers and had a huge grin on his face all day when they won the Rose Bowl. (He even once broke into Camp Randall to run around with Charlie on the field…allegedly.)

“Longest I ever ran was 14 miles–the Mayfair Marathon. Just kidding, I ran the whole marathon. I thought I was going to die.”

As a young man, Dad enjoyed distance running. He even made the cover of National Geographic running in one of the first Al’s Runs! Well, at least a Dad-shaped blob in a crowd of thousands made the cover. If you look closely, you can even see a Mom-shaped blob, watching from the sidelines (NOT running).

He also learned to play guitar and taught himself to play his life-long favorite band: The Beatles. He even wrote a few songs of his own. In his later years, he loved finding songs on YouTube and learning to play along. His favorites were classic Beatles and Country music. He was also an avid model ship builder, a great cartoonist and artist, a riding lawnmower enthusiast, and he enjoyed watching the Triple Crown every year, without fail.

We all know Dad proudly worked as Mr. Mom for 30+ years (and he had the license plate to prove it). A dedicated father (okay, maybe sometimes too dedicated…but his heart was always in the right place) and a parent who truly cared about keeping the household in order…and on time. (FOR THE LOVE OF GOD: THIS FAMILY IS ON TIME.) Despite Mom’s weekend applications of “Fisher time,” Dad stuck to his…timers. So. Many. Timers. And you better believe that every clock in the house (all 57 of them) were perfectly in sync with the USNO Master Clock.

“Daaad! There’s a timer going off!” “Well, what the hell did I set that for?”

Roy was an overachiever as a stay-at-home parent. He coached soccer with the Brookfield Soccer Association, served as manager for select soccer teams and 3v3 teams, and proudly served as “waterboy” for four years for the Brookfield Aces. He was also dedicated to Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts, serving as Den Leader and Pack Leader at Burleigh Elementary. He was also the region’s “Cookie Mom” for many years.

For 20+ years, he volunteered in many positions at Elmbrook Schools. He ran the bookstore at Burleigh Elementary–the site of the notorious gun-shaped eraser controversy, and was a student advocate in the stands at Brookfield East High School–the site of the notorious scoreboard cheer controversy that got him kicked out of the game and sent to the principal’s office. (Yes, as an adult.) Dad, of course, won that one…and arguably many more.

Roy was the REAL Santa Claus. (Don’t worry, kids…someone else will take over from now on.) No one can argue that Christmas was Dad’s favorite time of year. (Us kids used to say that it looked like Christmas threw up all over the house every year.) Dad meticulously placed Christmas decorations on every useable surface throughout the house…and then some. When he was younger, he’d create enviable outdoor light displays as well.

He collected Santa figurines–and boy what a collection. Always a follower of politics, he loved walking guests through his “politically correct” Santa set. His pride and joy (much to Mom’s dismay) was his life-sized, to-scale “leg lamp” from A Christmas Story. And yea–you bet he put that “fragile” major award up, front and center in the biggest window in the house for all passersby to marvel at and enjoy.

As kids, Santa always eluded us with his clever tricks and little hints through the magic of Christmas morning. (As a result, the Robinson children believed in Santa Claus until they were at least 20 years old.)

But Dad made Santa Claus real for everyone, playing Santa Claus at schools, at churches, at family events, and for special needs kids. He genuinely enjoyed bringing smiles to children’s faces. As he got older, he looked the part without as much effort, but he was always improving his costume, complete with the white wavy beard, spectacles, boots, felt and even jingle bells. (If anyone knows where he kept the reindeer, please let us know…they might need to be fed.)

He loved Christmas so much that he wouldn’t let Mom take the tree down this year, preferring to sit in the comfort of the Christmas lights and his hand-painted nativity scene because he knew he might not make it to the next holiday season.

In his later years, Dad worked as a bus driver for special needs kids, driving them to and from school every day for several years. He cared about every single one of those kids like they were his own, showing patience and care when the struggled or were frustrated. He went above and beyond to make sure each child had the attention they needed, regularly conversing with their parents about their day-to-day ups and downs, and even visiting them in the hospital when they were sick. (Sometimes showing up as Santa, but mostly just showing up to be there and to help.)

Dad also became another superhero: Bionic Man. After struggling with osteoarthritis and similar issues for years, he regularly had his parts changed out, becoming an amazing and heroic metal man in the process. Dad toughed it out through a ton of surgeries, including back surgery, having both shoulders and both knees replaced, his foot rebuilt, carpel tunnel surgery and glaucoma surgery. His favorite physical therapist, Andrea, said he was the best shoulder replacement patient they ever had. Despite all the pain, he worked through each surgery with grit and determination…only slightly annoying Mom (and Toni) in the process, I’m sure.

Amidst all the surgeries, Dad still managed to squeeze in some worldly travels, namely to China and Mexico with Mom. (He doesn’t recommend using any bathroom outside the hotel in either country.) He also traveled across the country doing regular scenic roadtrips with the kids in his 30s and 40s as the family moved around in Wisconsin then out to San Diego and eventually back to Wisconsin. This led to trips to Mount Rushmore, the Space Needle, Mount St. Helen and many other great American landmarks.

“‘Toni, get the mail.’ I swear I said that every Sunday and she’d still go out and get it.”

And we can’t write about Dad without acknowledging his goofy (I mean just plain DORKY) sense of humor. The trailer in the yard is stamped “I go where I’m towed.” His running sweatshirt said “Agony of Da Feet.” He loved saying “Hay!” or “Holy cow!” with Mom in the car…because she’d always look right where he was pointing…at hay…or an actual cow. (She fell for it every time.) Another favorite, “I got a pain in my ass. Its name is Charlie.” And don’t even get me started on the “Slow Children” sign that was, of course, in our own frickin’ front yard.

Although his fight was long and arduous, he kept that sense of humor right up to the end…seriously, he was still making fun of Mom the day he died. I think we can all appreciate that he was still trying to make us laugh right until the very end. (And I’m sure he’ll continue to try, wherever he may be now.) His humor will continue to delight us as we tell stories of his life, find his notes around the house, and read his ridiculously specific recipe cards.

Roy is survived by his loving (and oh so patient) wife of 43 years, Lynne (nee Fisher), children Niki (boyfriend Patrick), Charlie (wife Katie Rae) and Toni (boyfriend Paul). Roy is also survived by his sister Mary Morris and his brother Scott Robinson. Further survived by and loved by tons and tons of loving nieces, nephews, cousins, family and friends. Roy is preceded in death by his parents Robert Robinson and Doris Robinson (nee Starks), his brother Steven, his favorite mother-in-law Mary Fisher (nee Zacher) and his brother-in-law and friend Michael Fisher.

Gathering at the Funeral Home, 21600 West Capitol Drive, Brookfield, Monday, July 6, 4-7 PM. Memorial Service to follow at 7 PM.

Special thanks to the team at Waukesha Memorial Hospital, Dr. Krouwer, Carol and ProHealth Care hospice.

In lieu of flowers, please donate to the Tug McGraw Foundation and/or Special Olympics Wisconsin.

He will be missed.

“GO PACK!”