An Obituary
Charles Robert "Bob" Miller of Seaford passed away on Sunday, Feb 7 after a short illness. He was 84. Bob was born in Laurel (Delaware) and graduated from Laurel High School where he was a stellar athlete. He is also a graduate of the National FBI academy in Quantico, Virginia, and served in the United States Army. He joined
the Seaford Police Department in 1962 and was elevated to Police Chief in 1981, the position he held until his retirement in 1997.
Bob married his best friend and the love of his life, Barbara in 1962 and they enjoyed 59 wonderful years of marriage.
In addition to Barb, Bob is survived by his son, Dave and his wife, Ann of Topsail Beach North Carolina; grandchildren Natalie Wilson of New York, Kayla Thompson of Seaford, and Benjamin Miller (USMC) of Christiana; great-granddaughters Adalynn
and Nora, numerous nephews and nieces and many, many dear friends.A visitation will be held at 1:00pm on Thursday, February 11 at Cranston Funeral Home in Seaford with the funeral following at 2:00pm.
But This Does Not Tell the Whole Story
An obituary. A nice little wrap-up of the facts and figures of an individual’s life with perhaps a few personal references thrown in, usually hastily thrown together for the local newspaper, and quite predictable. But sometimes an obituary just doesn't cut it.
In 1962, young Bob Miller married Barbara Lasiter, and in the package also got her four-year-old kid: a stepchild, a ready-made family, baggage. But Bob didn't see it that way. He took that little boy as his own, figuratively and legally; as far as anyone who mattered was concerned, there was never a “step” about it.
As this awkward little boy grew, Bob very patiently and lovingly taught him to throw and catch a football, how to build a model car, how to play tennis, how to enjoy a book. He went to every game , every play, every concert (although he probably did not enjoy a lot of the concerts!)
But as the boy came to adulthood, problems began to crop up. He often exhibited a volatile personality and hair-trigger temper. He drank too much, way too much, and often behaved badly when alcohol was involved. He lost numerous jobs and most of his friends. His once happy, loving household disintegrated and ostracized him. Ultimately, he was diagnosed with severe bipolar disorder and alcoholism, and was institutionalized on a number of occasions. Most in the family and community gave up on him and turned their backs on him.
But not Barbara and Bob; they stayed with him and believed in him through that whole ordeal. They often took him in when he had nowhere else to go. They showed him patience that was not earned, understanding that was not warranted, love that was not deserved. They wept when that young man hit rock bottom, and ultimately rejoiced when he came out the other side, something that never could have happened without them.
Throughout the years, many in the community recognized Bob's caring heart and his wisdom, and often sought him out for advice or support. Many called him a trusted confidant; many called him Chief; many, many, many called him Friend. But I, and I alone have the unique privilege to call him… Dad.
Moving On
Needless to say, this has been one of the more difficult times of my life. There are many practical matters to take care of, and heartache that is sometimes unbearable. My Mom has been a great support, and I've tried to be the same for her. We have had the support of our family and many great friends. Thanks especially go out to Tonya, Gina, and all of their kids, to Gina and Andy for putting up with us those ten difficult days, and to Kayla for being there for Mom And, of course, I don't think I could have gotten through this without Ann. I thank you all so much.
I've been trying to move on with the matter of living, partly out of necessity, partly simply because that's what he would want, and mostly just to maintain my sanity
which we know can be precarious at times.) I have tried to get back to the mundane practicalities of life, to reignite my passions, and recultivate some semblance of a sense of humor. I have been trying to write lately, but I'm in a serious writer’s block right now; to tell the truth, my heart's just not in it.
It is said that time heals all wounds, but I don't think this is true. Time cushions the blow somewhat; time insulates us from our pain; time sort of anesthetizes us. But are we ever truly healed? I doubt it.
