In Memory

Bob Zappa

Bob Zappa

December 8, 2018

Hello Everyone,

I’m Bobby’s step daughter Anna and it is with a heavy heart and shattered soul that my mother (his wife) and I share sad news that Bob passed away earlier tonight December 8th. It was sudden and devastating and although it leaves us and those closest to him in a grey area there is no doubt that we know that Bob Zappa is an extraordinary human being. His presence was always palpable, his words and advice sincere, his laugh infectious. We will miss him and love him forever. We wish we had more time together but the time we did have was beautiful and precious. There was so much that we learned from this man and one of the biggest takeaways we’ve gotten is to enjoy life and spend as much time as possible with those we love.

Thank you for all of your thoughts and well wishes. We truly appreciate you all and how you’ve been a source of strength for him.

-Anna & Diane



 
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12/08/18 02:23 PM #1    

Janet R. Pearson

Many thoughts to the family and friends of a great man.  He will be missed by so many.  Our class has always had the name Zappa in our memories of the Class of "61"   Has a fellow veteran,  thankyou for your service.

Prayers to the family.


12/09/18 07:46 PM #2    

Charlotte Thomas (DeMeo)

God Bless you all.  Sudden deaths are so hard.  You already treasure the man that he was and all that he instilled in you.  Hold dear to your hearts the memories.  Charlotte Thomas DeMeo.


12/13/18 11:40 AM #3    

Sharon Esterley

Posted by Bob's wife Diane on his facebook page:

Death is nothing at all.

I have only slipped away to the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other, 
That, we still are.

Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way
which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect.
Without the trace of a shadow on it.

Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolute unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight? 

I am but waiting for you.
For an interval.
Somewhere. Very near.
Just around the corner.

All is well.

by Canon Henry Scott-Holland, 1847-1918, Canon of St Paul’s Cathedral

‘The King of Terrors’, a sermon on death delivered in St Paul’s Cathedral on Whitsunday 1910, while the body of King Edward VII was lying in state at Westminster: published in Facts of the Faith, 1919.

 


12/01/19 08:54 AM #4    

Sharon Esterley

On the anniversary of his passing,  Diane has posted this on his Facebook page:

It has been almost a year since Bob left the physical world. This is what I wrote about his passing, excerpted from my unpublished memoir, THE MARRIED WIDOW: A LOVE STORY

CHAPTER 28: The Day the Music Died

 The week Bob passed away started out much like any other. He had appointments lined up for checkups with his cardiologist on December 11 and his neurologist on December 12 and was hoping for encouraging news. He was in pain, but the amyloid protein in his blood was decreasing and his weight was increasing—both good signs. He was even starting to feel sensation in his fingertips. But his balance and walking were worse and he tired easily. Overall, though, he was optimistic and told me that he looked forward to doing more and more with me as we moved ahead together. We were even starting to believe that our dream trip to Italy might be a real possibility.


When Bob and I talked about his condition, he reassured me that he was going to be around “for a long time” and teased me that I worried “too much.” As he put it, “Except for the pain and my balance and walking, I feel good. I think we are finally getting on top of this thing. And I’m happy. Happier than I’ve ever been.” Since he looked good, I gladly bought into his assessment. But, looking back, I wonder if he was just trying to protect me by minimizing how bad the situation really was. 


The evening of Friday, December 7 was pretty typical. We were having our annual Christmas party the next night so, not wanting to mess up the kitchen, we ordered in from a local Japanese spot. He had chicken Katsu and one last Peroni, his favorite beer. He ate well, just like every night. Nothing to worry about there. I remember the conversation revolved around where we were going to fit the 30 guests who were coming to our party. We went to bed early and, as usual, we fell asleep holding hands. 


At about two in the morning, I realized he was no longer sleeping beside me. I figured he had gone to the bathroom and I called out to see if he was okay. Usually I was aware when he got up, but that night was different. It was eerily quiet and I didn’t hear him get out of bed. There were none of the typical breathing or wheezing problems and “sounds” that occurred every night. Since he didn’t answer, I decided to investigate. When I found him, he had collapsed on the bathroom floor. I thought maybe he had passed out or lost his balance and fallen. So I called Victor, the building “super,” who came to our apartment, assuming he would get Bob back on his feet, as he had done many times before. But when Victor tried to help him, he quickly realized something much worse was going on and told me to call 911. They told Victor how to begin CPR.


The rest of the night is a chaotic blur. First, I called Anna who rushed here in 20 minutes or so. By then the EMTs and the police had  arrived. They tried to bring him back as I stood there in stunned silence. At some point they assured me that they could do just as much for him here as at the hospital. I was relieved about that, but it was too little, too late. Nothing more could be done. So they removed the ring I placed on his finger that beautiful evening we were finally married, and I placed it on my finger, right next to the rings he had given me such a brief time ago.


The medical examiner was the last to arrive. He asked Anna and me to leave the room, as he checked Bob over. Then the M.E. had us come out and we said our good-byes.


And just like that, at 2:55am on Saturday, December 8, 2018, my dear husband, love of my life, was gone.


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