From the stars we came, to the stars we return. From now, until the end of time.
-Capt. John Sheridan, Babylon 5
My good friend and coach Rob Masson passed away on November 29, 2019, he was just days away from his 58th birthday. This past week he would have turned 60 years old. I always think of him this time of year. Below is a piece I wrote for Rob when he passed away.
I first met Rob when I was 6 years old at the tryouts for the Markham Aquatic Club. Rob was the Head Age Group Coach at the time. He was unlike any other adult that I had met in my young life. So many authority figures I knew then would put me down and tell me to calm down, be quiet, and "stop doing that." Rob was different. He took a child who was uncommonly hyperactive and sought to unleash this potential in the pool. He found out that at the tender age of 6, I was a massive Star Trek fan. That was all Rob needed. He just turned to me and said “Dudar!” At 6 I was already being called Dudar. “You a Trekkie?”
“Ya."
“Get across this pool at warp 9!” I was gone. I had a lot of coaches in my 20 years as a swimmer, none were as fun as Rob. That 1 glorious year when he was my coach I couldn’t wait to get to the pool, I improved more that year than I had at any other point in my career. He let me be me, he didn’t try to change me like so many others had tried. He used the best parts of me to make me a better swimmer.
Rob was a rare breed and a rebel in a lot of ways. His fun-loving nature rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. A lot of people thought he should be more strict and more distant. A lot of people stuck their noses up at Rob and the way he coached. These people were lame and unimaginative and they deserve the misery they have created for themselves! If you got along with Rob, if you bought in, you could do anything and have a good time doing it. He was in my corner then, and he was until the day he died.
There are some people you meet in your life, and you might see them every day for a period of time, then you might not see or speak to them for years after but they are never unfamiliar. Rob was one of those guys. When I saw him, every time it was like we had seen each other yesterday. We could look across a pool at each other and we would know exactly what the other was thinking. We kept in touch over the years after he left swimming and our relationship evolved into a great friendship that I cherish even now that he is gone.
Years ago I was backpacking through Nicaragua. I was in a little town called Leon in a hostel that served 25-cent mojitos. There was a problem, the bus to leave was at 4 am. Needless to say, this was a difficult bus to catch after an evening of 25-cent mojitos. I was feeling depressed having missed my bus for the 2nd day in a row. I was in an Internet cafe, I decided to give Rob a call. I was on the phone with him for probably about 2 hours if not more. I’ll never forget what he said to me. He picked me up, he told me how excited he was for me out on my adventure. He was proud of me for getting out to see the world. “Paul, you’re like a son to me,” he said. I never felt sorry for myself after that.
Rob knew how slim his chances were at the time of his diagnosis. He never stopped fighting. Through chemo, radiation and experimental trials. Rob was diagnosed with Lymphoma over 5 years ago. He was given 2 years to live 3 years ago. Rob had a long time to prepare for his end. He lived each day the best his condition allowed him. During this time I never heard despair in his voice. I never heard a discouraging word. When George VI passed away Churchill said "...during these last months the King walked with death as if death were a companion, an acquaintance whom he recognized and did not fear. In the end,death came as a friend[.]” Much the same can be said about Rob in his last years.
He didn’t talk about it often, but Rob did regret not having kids of his own. The way his life unfolded, it just didn’t happen for him. But as I looked around the room at his funeral, and the outpouring on social media from swimmers he coached, I see how well a lot of his kids have grown up, have families of their own, and are leading happy and fulfilling lives. Wherever he is, he is very proud of all of us.
Quintus Ennius said
“Let no one weep for me, or celebrate my funeral with mourning; for I still live, as I pass to and fro through the mouths of men.”
When Rob passed away he did not ask for flowers, instead, he asked for donations to the Princess Margaret Cancer Foundation. He spent his last days in the care of Princess Margaret and he had good things to say about the place and what they did for him. You can donate here.
As I said earlier, Rob was a massive Trekkie all his life and it was something we shared. I can think of nothing better than to share a scene from one of his favourite movies that deals with death, life that happens after it and the lasting impact of those who leave our lives sooner than they should have.
LLAP Rob Masson 1962-2019
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