“If You’re Reading This… I’ve Officially Clocked Out”

(Don’t panic — I went out doing some good.)

Hey friends, it’s me — Robbie.

If this is posted, you know now that I’m gone. And you also know it’s time to open The Folder I told her about — the one with all the “what to do” stuff, so my wife isn’t running around trying to guess my passwords and favorite pizza toppings.

I actually pre-wrote some of this before I checked out, because I didn’t want her to have to sit here, teary-eyed, begging for help for me yet again. This way, I get to ask you myself.

Here’s the deal: before I left, I made a few donations… of myself.

• My kidneys are now pulling double shifts in Ohio and North Carolina.

• My arteries are going to help someone’s heart keep the beat.

• My skin is helping 76 burn patients (I hope they all look fabulous).

• My corneas are giving two people the chance to see again — possibly even the face of the person reading this.

Now, I’m asking for one more thing: please help my wife keep her feet under her. She’s been my rock through everything, and I’d like her to have a little cushion as she faces life without me. Think of it as a ticket to the Robbie Afterlife Tour — proceeds go directly to my favorite girl.

If you can’t donate, that’s okay. Hug someone you love, laugh at something wildly inappropriate, and maybe eat a piece of pie the size of your head in my honor.

Love,

Robert — or Robbie as my wife calls me — Rob, Bob, Bubby, Son.

See you all soon! Seriously, stop crying!