In Memoriam

By Gwyneth Susil

At our wedding, the Gospel reading was Matthew 5:13-16.  Both Robert and I have the verse engraved on the inside of our wedding rings.  The Gospel speaks of the call for all of us to be a light for the world.

Robert lived that calling in everything that he did, and there is not a person here today whose life wasn’t made better by his life.  But it was for me and for William that his light shone most brightly.  Robert wasn’t perfect – despite his impressive organizational skills, he had a maddening inability to remember my work schedule more than 24 hours in advance; and he had absolutely no realistic understanding of time, firmly believing that he could make it from the door of his office to our front door in 15 minutes, no matter how many times it was proven to him that it was a 35 minute trip.  But as a husband and a father, Robert was an unwavering beacon of light.  He was entirely devoted to William, and he gave me the most selfless and all encompassing love that one person can give to another.  Love that I never doubted for one minute.  Love that I never regretted for one second.  Not during the challenges of dual internships and a newborn baby.  Not during the shock and horror of his initial diagnosis 2 years ago.  Not during the seemingly endless rollercoaster of his subsequent treatments.  And not during the last few days of his life, when I was asked to do the hardest thing that anyone could ever ask of me – let him go.  Through all of that – and through the innumerable joyful moments in between – his love and his light was always there around me.

I gave Robert a book last year for Valentine’s Day – a compilation of photos and quotes that told the story of our relationship.  One of the quotes stated: “Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while deeply loving someone gives you courage.”   I do not understand why Robert was not able to stay with us, why he couldn’t continue the great work he was doing here among us.  But it is my hope and prayer today that we will all find the strength and courage to see Robert’s light continue to shine – amongst his colleagues, as they continue his research and remember his great caring and respect for his patients; amongst his family and friends, as we continue the relationships that he helped to bring about, and from me and William, as we work to become the light to the world that Robert believed we could be,

By Jonathan Hansen

I first met Robert 17 years ago, when we were both undergraduates at the Johns Hopkins University. We were also members of the swim team, so some of my first encounters with Robert involved heading to the pool for practice when it was dark and early in the morning.

Our coach, George Kennedy, has a story that he likes to tell about Robert. During the competitive season, the swim team travelled up and down the East Coast for meets. These trips would occasionally interfere with exam periods, so George would make arrangements to administer tests on the road with him serving as the proctor. During my freshman or sophomore year, there was one Chemistry exam that just about everyone had to take. It was a difficult test, so my teammates and I were anxious about how we did. So, after the test, someone built up enough nerve and said to George - “Can you grade our tests and tell us how we did?” Now George, while he was a great swim coach, was no chemist. So, he answered, “Unfortunately, I can’t. I don’t have the answer key.” But my teammate already had his response planned, “Yes, you do! You can use Robert’s test!”

Robert as the answer key. To those of us who knew him, this tale is probably not very surprising. Robert’s intelligence has been elevated to near-myth amongst the swim team, and perhaps the entire Hopkins Community. After talking with many of his friends and colleagues, I am convinced that his name is nearly synonymous with academic excellence.

And indeed he was smart! It would probably take hours to list all of his academic achievements, including his degrees, awards, and everything else that he earned during his 17 years at Johns Hopkins. He was an accomplished student, researcher, scientist, and physician.

But as I’ve reflected on Robert’s life over the last few days, I’ve been forced to wonder if there was more to him that made him truly special. After all, the world is filled with very smart people, but I suspect very few were quite as beloved as Robert.

And so I reached the inevitable, yet entirely anticipated conclusion; Robert was a remarkable person, for so many reasons above and beyond his intellect. So, as a tribute, I’d like to talk about a few of them today.

Humility. Robert was one of the most humble people I knew. Although he had a lot to be proud of, he never boasted or made people feel unworthy of his attention. He lived his life with grace, knowing that he was blessed and freely offering his help to those in need.

I know this from personal experience. Although I was a good student in college, I was by no means in the same league as Robert. We both majored in Biomedical Engineering and planned to go to medical school, and thus had a fairly demanding course of study. Naturally, Robert had an easier time with it, understanding topics more intuitively than I did. Through our four undergraduate years at Hopkins, he helped me immensely, patiently explaining things and prodding me in the right direction. And through it all, he did it with grace. I never felt like I was bothering him; if anything, I felt like he enjoyed helping me. Without his assistance, I’m not sure I would be where I am today.

Work Ethic. Given Robert’s natural abilities, you may suppose that he could afford to sit back and rest on his laurels from time to time. But that, frankly, is not the Susil way. Robert worked harder than anyone I knew, putting extra hours in the library, lab, or hospital, just to get the very best job done.

This continued into the last days of Robert’s life. You may think that after being diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer, in the midst of receiving treatments that left him feeling constantly sick and tired, that he would take some time for rest or at the very least, not take on any new projects. But again, that is not the Susil way. A few months ago, Robert began writing an iPhone application that enables physicians to convert between equivalent doses of pain medications. Despite his illness, Robert saw a need to help patients and their physicians, and therefore devoted his time and talents to provide a solution.

Friendliness. Robert was one of the friendliest people I met. He knew just about everyone and just about everyone knew him – and liked him. I often joked that you couldn’t walk anywhere in Baltimore with Robert without running into at least one person that he knew.

I can’t ever remember Robert getting angry with someone. Even when dealing with conflict, like talking with an intractable customer service rep. or a belligerent parking lot attendant, Robert always managed to win them over with his charm, eventually leaving them with a laugh and a smile.

Loving Father. Kids loved Robert – especially mine. Whenever he came to visit, my son and daughter would run over to him and start clamoring for his attention. They always got it and they loved him for it.

Robert was William’s daddy, and he was perfectly suited for it. Robert loved spending time with William: playing games, singing songs, and teaching him life’s lessons. Despite Robert’s dedication to his work, his relationship with William was always a top priority. Robert knew that as a father, it was his responsibility to mold William into a man. And even though William is still very young, we know that Robert succeeded – William is a very special little boy and his father’s son.

Devoted Husband. I remember when Robert first met Gwyneth. He was so excited, and I knew that he had met someone special. And he had! It was instantly apparent to all of us that he and Gwyneth were a perfect match. She was smart, beautiful, strong in her faith, and everything Robert deserved and was looking for in a spouse.

Watching their relationship over the last 8 years, I was always struck about how tenderly Robert loved Gwyneth. He never ceased to show her affection, and always looked out for her, sacrificing himself for her interests. Robert’s example showed me how to be a better husband, and I’m grateful for that – and so is my wife.

Faith. Robert’s faith in God was central to his being, and perhaps unites all of his other commendable attributes. Early in his life, Robert recognized how much he had been blessed and therefore used his gifts to their fullest extent in order to make the world a better place. He was extremely thankful that God brought him such a wonderful wife, and then a wonderful son, and he cherished and loved Gwyneth and William with all of his heart.

Through the trials of his cancer, Robert’s faith was renewed and strengthened. I was always amazed about how upbeat Robert was over the course of his treatment. To be certain, he hoped and prayed for a cure… and rightfully so, as did we all. But, now I see that he was also content with God’s provision, knowing that his hope, both in this life and beyond, lay in God’s hands.

So, I’d like to conclude with one of my favorite scripture passages, Romans 8:28:

 “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose…”

This is an astonishing statement. It defies any kind of rational explanation. How can any good come from this awful tragedy? Robert’s life was horrifically cut short and we miss him dearly. In the midst of all of our sadness and grief, what can possibly be done that can could be considered good?

Well, the most honest answer is that I don’t know. I don’t know how God will work to turn our sadness into joy. I don’t know how we will live without Robert’s presence in our lives. But maybe our ignorance, our inability to know what the future holds, is ok. Perhaps in our grief, we can use Robert’s life as an example, like an “answer key” for our faith. We don’t need to know what the future has in store or what’s exactly going to happen; rather, all we need is to know that God is good, God is in control, and in the end, God will be glorified. For as Romans 8 concludes:

“I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

But even then, without knowing the future, I can see another ray of light, shining down on our despair. Over the last few years, I have had the privilege of witnessing all the love that has been poured out on the Susils during Robert’s treatment and since his death. This love provided money, meals, housing, babysitting, hugs, prayer, and countless other things. This love came from you. It is a wonder that should be cherished, even now despite our sadness.

So, from this love, I’d like to say from all of us, to his family:

To John, Agnes, and the Susil Family – You raised a remarkable son; a man of faith, intelligence, humility and grace. You will rejoice with him again one day.

To Gwyneth and William – You have lost your husband and father. He was a good man, the finest of men, and his loss is deeply felt by us all. But, always know that he loved you, we love you, God loves you, and you will never be alone.