Missing Robert
My dear friend, Robert Lee Heugatter, has been dead 19 years this week.
Robert and I met in 1976, when I was working with his mother, Bobbie, at a neighborhood grocery store. I was 15 and it was my first job. I was the first girl grocery sacker (wasn’t 70′s feminism great?!) at Riley’s Supermarket, and Bobbie was a checker there. She took a liking to me and frequently told me I needed to meet her younger son, Robert. Then, one fall afternoon, he came into the store and she introduced us. I think Bobbie wanted me to meet Robert in the hopes that he and I would have a romantic relationship.
Given that he was a gay teenage boy and I was a budding young lesbian, romance was not a part of the equation for us. But Robert and I had a strong connection from the moment we met. We felt immediately comfortable with one another. Our personalities clicked. We had similar home lives and family issues, and we shared a variety of interests. We had fun, made each other laugh, and went on adventures together. We trusted one another implicitly and we knew we could always count on one another in good times and bad. We were soul mates.
Robert’s AIDS diagnosis in 1987 was devastating for me even though it wasn’t a complete surprise. He had been experiencing numerous unusual illnesses for the previous couple of years, and at that time in our history, those of us in the gay community knew that often meant an AIDS diagnosis was imminent.
He was only 29 when he passed away from an AIDS-related opportunistic infection on December 4, 1990. I often think about what he would be like today had he survived. What kind of work would he be doing? Would he be married? What would be important to him as a 48-year-old gay man?
I’m sure he’d have a partner or a boyfriend because he was a dear and handsome man. I know he would still be ‘gay and proud’ and he’d be vocal in his support of Annise Parker’s mayoral bid. He would probably be a more careful driver now and he’d likely be drinking less alcohol and smoking less dope than he did when we were younger.
Robert was in restaurant management when he died, but I think he would probably be working in computers today. He loved electronics and I’m certain he would be a big fan of the internet! If nothing else, I know he’d utilize the world-wide web for sexual hook-ups. As a result, he would probably have let his Club Houston membership expire!
On the other hand, I think some things would be the same all these years later. We wouldn’t be skipping school like in the old days, but I bet he and I would occasionally take a ‘sick day’ and head to the beach. Robert would still be a fabulous host with the ability to mix a delicious cocktail. He’d still be an avid fan of rock and roll, and I know he’d have tickets to the upcoming KISS concert!
I’m sure he would still have the endearing habit of rubbing the satin pillow his grandmother made on his upper lip when he didn’t feel well. And because I know the thoughtful and caring man he was, I am certain he would still be bringing steaks over to my mom’s house for their monthly dinners together.
I regret that he didn’t live long enough to see the advent of protease inhibitors and other effective treatments for HIV. I hate that he didn’t get a chance to do all the things he wanted to do in his life. And selfishly, I’m sad that I didn’t get to have more time with him.
Obviously, I miss Robert very much, even all these years later. The good news is that I frequently see or hear something that reminds me of him and I’m comforted by that. It’s proof that we really do live on in those who love us.
