John Stamos remembers Bob Saget posting his funeral speech – Deadline

Stamos published his funeral speech in the Los Angeles Times today.

Deaths in Hollywood and in the media in 2022: photo gallery

Read the full text below:

My Bob. I am not ready to accept that he is gone. I’m not going to say goodbye yet.

I imagine him there, always on the road, doing what he loves with all his heart and humor. He’s standing on stage, killing! Another two-hour set in front of a few hundred of the luckiest people on the planet. They laugh so hard they cry. And just as they catch their breath, he grabs his guitar and kills them with one of his closest musicians. There’s a reminder, and another, and another. Everyone here wants an encore with Bob.

He calls his one true love, Kelly [Rizzo], and tells him about his show. He says he feels 26 again, alive again, then asks her to fix a photo he wants to post, and she says it doesn’t need fixing and tells him how great he is beautiful. He says he loves her with all his heart. And when he arrives at the hotel to lay his head on the pillow, he misses his daughters, his family and his friends.

God, he loves us all so much. Bob falls asleep dreaming of when we’ll meet again – and he smiles. I know in my heart that he is smiling, still hearing the laughter from hours ago.

He should always be out there challenging himself creatively, stripping all the crap out of Hollywood, traveling to small towns across the country, giving people raw, wild, unpredictable, uncensored Saget. “Tonight’s specials are cake and rooster…and we’re out of cake.”

When I saw his last Instagram post, my first thought was that he looked too “alive” to die a few hours later. But I guess it’s true. We should all want to “die alive”. We don’t want to be filled with regret and remorse, forgotten and rejected. We want to be overwhelmed with the privilege and generosity of doing what we do best. Bob felt young, full of energy, grateful and appreciated. The applause and laughter didn’t have time to subside before Bob. He never ran out of cake…or anything. He died bright and fierce.

Personally, I hope to die after a beautiful night of love with my wife, but I’m glad Bob didn’t go that route. Like I said, I’d rather he die after doing what he did best. (Sorry, Kelly.) That’s the kind of joke Bob loved.

It is difficult to explain to me who Bob was personally without understanding that he is also your Bob.

The global ocean of love for him has been amazing. Even though it’s been hard for me to watch the tributes, the stories, the magazine covers, the millions of social media posts, I feel like everyone is doing it right, saying the perfect thing, remembering Bob in these remarkable ways.

I just wish he knew how much the world loved him when he was here. I spent many nights trying to convince him how much he was really loved (or maybe it was the other way around – him trying to convince me how much he was loved). But that was just bluster from Bob. He didn’t think his death would have that kind of impact. It’s the kind of reporting that speaks to someone who has truly connected with people, and not just for a moment, but for generations.

I even saw an article entitled: “What Bob Saget meant for immigrant children”. He told how he struck a chord with many immigrant children and how they learned to speak English thanks to him. Now, I love my Bob Saget but…really? Oh good? I can just hear a bunch of kids running around saying, “I love my mom, and you can too for $12.”

One of the great honors of my life is to be associated with him at this time.

I received thousands of texts, emails and calls talking about our 35 year friendship, telling me how sorry they were for my loss. People even sent flowers like I lost my wife or something. Come to think of it, when we were together, we were like an old married couple: all bickering, no sex.

Last summer, Bob and Dave [Coulier] and I made a personal appearance together. It was a high pressure gig dealing with COVID protocols and everything. And let’s remember, Bob played a dust maniac. Typecasting? Yup – so he was extra… let’s call it neurotic? We were a little hard on each other, and poor Dave was right in the middle, getting it both ways like he had been for the past 35 years. I felt terrible and immediately apologized to Bob. But he was surprisingly quiet. I hadn’t heard from him for a few days, which was a long time not to have heard from Bob.

Finally, on my birthday, Bob started texting me like crazy, asking if I had read his post about me on Instagram. Honestly, I was a bit over Bob at the moment, but figured I needed to read it so he would stop bothering me. This was his message:

“To say we are like brothers is an understatement. We’ve been through so much together for 35 years. Ups, downs – the usual that you experience with the closest people in your life. But what I have to say here is how lucky I am to have John in my life. He was always there for me, even when I could be unbearable. There’s only one @johnstamos on this planet, and I’m a better person because he’s in my life. Happy birthday, dear John.

I can just read this every day for the rest of my life.

According to legend, Bob and I didn’t really get along when we started. Full house. We certainly had different acting styles and how we approached each scene. His: making slightly inappropriate jokes that would regularly lead him to little “meetings” with the mothers. But at the same time, he began to show what a brilliant comic mind he had. Mine: obsessed with every moment and seeking truth, deeper understanding, self-analysis and personal reflection in every hug. (Dave just lost a lot of gas.) It didn’t take long for us to meet in the middle and respect each other professionally and creatively over the years.

When we started Full house, I was 20 years old and I had no worries in the world. Shit, my backyard was Disneyland. But life does what it does, and when things fell apart, the last person on Earth I ever imagined would be my rock became just that. When I lost my parents, Bob was there for me like no one else. He told dirty jokes and talked about himself while planning my dad’s funeral. He was there through divorces, deaths, despair and dark days. He was there through love, marriage, a child, and bright times. He was my lifeline.

He loved hard and deep. (Cue Bob for a “hard and deep” joke.) He used to do that during tragedies and honestly, it pissed me off sometimes. This is how he walked through darkness and unfortunately he had a lot of it in his life. Now that I’m dealing with him dying, I kind of get it.

Bob loved with everything he had. He taught me to be present with those I love. I hope he learned to internalize the love I felt for him.

My wife Caitlin, who has been amazing through it all, my son Billy, and everyone in my life will benefit every day from the gift Bob has given me. Billy will grow with this depth of love for the rest of his life.

The day Bob died, Billy was looking at a picture of Bob and I dressed like women for a photo shoot for People magazine, featuring Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon from Some like it hot.

He squinted and tilted his head, trying to make sense of the image. After a long time, he said, “Daddy, who is it?” And I said it was your dad and your Uncle Bob in women’s clothes. And he said, “Why?”

“Well, son, I did it as a tribute to the movie…I can’t speak for Bob.”

I pray that Billy will one day have a friend like I had Bob – and if I see a picture of the two of them in tutus, I’ll know it’s brotherly love.

I grabbed Billy, hugged him as tight as I could and told him how much I loved him. We don’t do Bob’s legacy justice without remembering to hold those we love as close as possible and tell them how we feel about them every day.

Bob put everything on the table for us, leaving nothing behind.

When the news broke, I cracked up. I was upset and felt useless to help anyone else. But my supporting wife picked me up, threw me in the car and drove to Bob and Kelly’s house. That’s what Bob would have done if it were the other way around. I slipped into the garden alone. His last cigar lay in an ashtray near the hot tub. It was windy and mild. I looked up at the sky and said, “Baby, please wave to me from above.” (I called him Baby because that’s how he entered his information into my phone years ago.) “Tell me you’re okay.” Tell me not to feel bad. I waited a few minutes. Nothing. Asked again. Silence.

I was contemplating heaven, hell and sorrow when suddenly a little hummingbird came down from above and landed on a tree right in front of me. (I swear it’s true. I even took a little video with my phone.)

I always thought hummingbirds represented my parents, and this one was definitely my mother, who had red hair: she had bright red feathers around her neck like a scarf.

She assured me that Bob was fine and to stop looking for goofy signs. (How rude!) Then she flew away. I want signs of Bob, shit! I want to be haunted by him! The void is maddening!

Then this thought crossed my mind: Maybe, just maybe, his soul could be at peace? The only reason to shake the thunder and part the clouds is that you are restless in the afterlife, right? That you have unfinished business and haven’t said what you need to say to those you love. We all know it’s not Bob.

Maybe I need to stop looking for Bob in the sky and accept that he is right where he needs to be, peaceful, free, surrounded by the hummingbirds of past souls at rest.

I don’t need Bob in any other area. It’s in the classes I teach my son and in the dirty, hilarious stories that my wife and I will laugh at for the rest of our lives. Hell, I can Google it to life and hear it anytime, night or day. And now I can pause or fast forward, which would have been amazing many times in his lifetime.

I spent days refusing to let him go. But now I’m starting to realize that I don’t have to. I don’t have to say goodbye because he never leaves my heart. And I will continue to talk to him every day and let him know what he means to me.

Bob, I will never, ever have another friend like you. You will always be my best friend. You are my new guardian angel – a guardian angel with the dirtiest mouth and a heart as big and caring as ever.

About Florence M. Sorensen

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