Russell Ian Robertson "Gregory"

But let's start at the beginning and branch out. He was born on May 18, 1975 in Denver, Colorado, back when the hospital was actually called Colorado General. While perhaps not loving that it made him sound as if he was a Cabbage Patch Kid, he would later turn that on his head and have an extensive collection of Garbage Pail Kids trading cards. But that was Russ. He could always turn things on their head, side, or otherwise, and keep going.

It seems trite to say to know Russ was to love him, but there is a vast amount of truth in that statement. If you didn't know him, you simply weren't a friend YET. And if you DID know him, he loved you as fiercely and deeply as his own family. He had friends far and wide, across the pond, and across the world whose lives are no longer the same.

He also deeply loved his family. His mom was his world and his best friend once he became an adult. He was lucky to call his dad a friend, and guide for practical life skills. He didn't have kids of his own, but that didn't stop him from being the very best of bad influences that would offer his nieces and nephews a kilt, a sword, lots of sugar, a drum set, and then make sure to drop them back off with his siblings. They gave him the honorary title of "Funcle" (Fun+Uncle = Funcle) and he lived that title every day. Russ was truly the best of the best, a child at heart, and a protector and guide of the young. We can only hope that his nephews will be half the man he was, and that his nieces will find someone who loves them with all their heart, just as he did.

He loved his siblings, especially his "little slither" whom he was prone to chasing with snakes, spiders, and irritating verbal taunts. Even so, he was a great example to his little brothers, showing them the potential for mischief, how to get away with it, but also how to be honest and humble to everyone.

Though his only children were fur-kids, he was the best parent to the animals that crossed paths with him. He would care for the sick, and soothe the anxious. Certainly he was met at the rainbow bridge by those fur-kids who passed before him.

Speaking of friends, he had so many from all walks of life. It didn't matter if you were poor, or the odd man out, he would champion you. He went through this world having quietly known the famous, the mostly famous, and the perhaps infamous, and yet, you'd never have known. If you did know, you might not believe it anyway. And until cameras on our phones and social media, there was no proof. Even so, he was too honest to make stuff like that up. Speaking of which, thank heaven that God knew that the world could not handle a digital camera in Russ' hands while he was young. Had we made it that far with technology, the world would not have been able to handle his awesomeness. But the world would have been a better place for it since he would have been able to share his love and passions much earlier. He never walked into a room of strangers and let them stay strangers. He would talk to everyone and anyone, and much like his grandfather before him, he would undoubtedly turn them into friends and acquaintances.

He genuinely cared for others too. He had a deep sense of social justice, and fought for the little man to raise them up. He would literally give you the shirt off his back or the last penny he had. He believed that if someone was asking, they truly needed it worse than he did, even if he was in dire straits. He also believed that through faith, God would provide what he needed right when he needed it. So he didn't worry that he could end up both shirtless and utterly broke, he knew everything would turn out the way it should and he'd be ok.

He was clearly a man of great faith. And while he needed to try on several religions to find the one that spoke best to his heart and soul he lived a humble life, and loved the Lord. His quiet worship, and even quieter faith, were unmatched. He respected those from all walks of faith, and of life, and often set aside differences in order to hopefully guide people to Jesus. He loved the Rosary for its meditative qualities and connection with the world's mother. Prayer was part of his life wherein he found his connection to the Divine.

He was also a huge supporter of rescue animals, particularly ferrets, as their plight spoke to his heart. He often took on the sickest and the ones most likely to be hospice cases so that they would know love, a soft hammock, and the company of other furry slinkies before they passed over the rainbow bridge.

He loved wrestling, WWE style, and went many a round in the ring. And while he was excellent at heckling others, he was not so good at taking a heckling. He would tell you that no matter what you think is going on, getting hit by a chair hurts. And it’s hard to become famous in a sport that is part theater, part extreme physical activity, part personality, and part smack-talk.

He would say his body was a temple and putting tattoos on it was like installing stained glass. However, he would advise caution if you decided to get one, and tell you not to. Because that was Russ - a man of many facets, like the true gem he was.

Somehow, this makes him sound unreal and unearthly. But that’s the furthest thing from the truth. Russ was extremely human, and had many past mistakes, ongoing struggles, and the frustrations of this life as we know it. The world is an uphill battle when striving for a just place to live when your beliefs include ideas and ideals such as environmental justice, social justice, universal healthcare, a living wage, the end of racism, and a lasting peace in the world. And that’s just a start! He was very cerebral and intelligent, and he could be almost exhausting to talk to because of his lofty thoughts. It wasn’t big, five dollar words (though he knew many of those too), it was the expanse to which his ideas could stretch. He could literally talk to you about almost anything. But that makes perfect sense if you knew him.

He was a self-taught artist, who kept a peace book as a kid. That same peace book that would get him in trouble with the law over graffiti. But again, this was Russ. He not only knew how to prove who had created the original work he was copying, but he knew the man who wrote the book on graffiti – no really. The literal book. That was a big loss for the law, but a win for a man who loved art, loved painting, and was intelligent enough to teach himself how to do anything he applied himself to.

As he delved deeper into Orthodoxy as a religion, he taught himself to “write” religious icons. The reason for quotes is because you do not paint them (though yes, technically you do that too). You pray them into being. You ask the divine for guidance. He would choose the original Byzantine style of iconography. Instead of fully modern paints, he would often make egg-based ones that were originally used when creating in this medium. He would also use gold leaf instead of less expensive modern metallic paints so that his works would be as original as possible, and bring back very old techniques into the modern world.

He also was of Scottish heritage. Having done the research and legwork to track his family back across the pond, he grew to connect with his Scottish roots in many ways. There were highland games aplenty, certainly. And he could tell you a good scotch whiskey from one that was anywhere from meh to bad. But it was more than that too. He had no problem donning a kilt and heading out whether it was snowing, raining, or sunny and 100 degrees out. He learned how to pleat and wear the great kilt as it spoke to his heart. He could tell you the differences between tartan types, tartan weights, if it was formal or informal, what would make one as close as one can get to original, and how they should fit. His ghillie brogues have walked many miles and danced more than once.

He was very active in his Scottish clan, the Donnachaidh Robertsons. He could address a haggis like no one’s business. He could lift a quaich and toast anyone eloquently (or roast brutally), and understood it had two handles so as to always share with a friend. He was most excellent, and swift, at stealing cattle from the Campbell clan. And he enjoyed the many sporting events of the highland games, and a rousing bagpipe tune.

He never felt quite at home in the United States. His heart belonged in Scotland, and he visited more than once, with the intent to move there someday. And while in his lifetime he wasn't able to, he's certainly wandering the moors and taking in a Celtic or Bolton Wanderers football game.

Time and again, people would comment on how selfless he was, and how he expected nothing for helping. A friend of his pointed out this quote from the poem “On Death” by Kahlil Gibran:

“And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides,

That it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.

And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.

And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.”

Indeed, it is certain that Russ is dancing, singing, and climbing to the top of the mountain, unencumbered by all that exists in this world, and all that may have weighed him down. If we are to believe that he was given wings as he passed to the other side, then he is soaring above, holding his halo tight.

In the movie How To Train Your Dragon, there is a funeral scene in which a character says, “May the Valkyries welcome you and lead you through Odin’s great battlefield. May they sing your name with love and fury, so that we might hear it rise from the depths of Valhalla and know that you’ve taken your rightful place at the table of kings. For a great man has fallen: A warrior. A chieftain. A father. A friend.” And Russ was all of those things. He always fought the good fight so that people would have better lives. He wanted to lift his brothers and sisters of the world to greater heights. He was the best ferret dad a slinky could have. In the quiet of the night, you can hear the roar of laughter as he joins kings and commoners alike and raises a glass. Yes, he was human. But he was also a protector and warrior. The best way to describe him may be a gentle giant.

The scene continues with a different character saying, “How do you become someone that great, that brave, that selfless? I guess you can only try.”

Imagine for a moment that it is the winter of our lives, though the actual season would tell us otherwise. Our hearts are frozen, and we have seen our leader fall. Time stopped for a moment, and there is a blizzard of emotions and tears that are blinding. Our torch-bearer has left us in the dark, and in the dark are all of those things which we fear and battle against. But he left his light. We have but to raise it to the sky, a beacon for others, and to give them light as well. We all will have to have the faith he did to continue on this rocky path, and to see this world into the light that it deserves.

Like Russ, we will sometimes stumble. We will sometimes fall. There will be hurt, and sorrow. But like Russ, we have the same gifts that he had. He gave them to us when we met him, and we have them now.

We have faith. The unshakeable belief in something or someone. He had faith in God, certainly, but he had faith in all of us as well. Faith that we will be ok, no matter what may. And that God will wipe the tears from our eyes, lift our chin, and heal our hearts. Faith that as he believed that he would see God and all of his fur-children on the other side of the rainbow bridge, that we will yet see him again and he will welcome us when we pass from this life.

We have hope. Today is dark. Some days ahead may be as well. But we have the hope that today is not all days. The hope that the sun will rise, and set as it always does. That we will grow around our grief and become larger than it. And we have the hope that we too can make a difference in this world and carry on his legacy of radical peace, love, and kindness.

But the greatest of these is love. And you know if you are reading this, he loved you. And there is nothing better than the love of a gentle giant, loaned to us for too short a time.

And so we all are at a crossroads. We can despair because our best friend, our protector, our leader is gone. Or we can only try – we can nurse our wounds, light each other’s torches, and burn as brightly as Russ did. We can continue his good works and fight for all that is right and just. And we can have the faith that he taught us well, and led us to this path.

Rest in power, our guide and protector. Memory eternal, our son, our brother, our uncle, our nephew, but most of all, our friend.

In lieu of flowers, the family requests that donations be given to Spirit of Christ Church.

Livestreaming will be available the day of the service via Spirit of Christ's YouTube Channel.

www.youtube.com/@SpiritofChrist

A visitation for Russell will be held Friday, August 16, 2024 from 5:00 PM to 8:00 PM at Olinger Chapel Hill Mortuary & Cemetery, 6601 South Colorado Blvd, Centennial, CO 80121.