Rooted in Christ, rooted in love

On an overcast September afternoon in a hospital room with a view overlooking the Bow River toward the mountains, sits Rob and Christa Rubben playing cribbage. The way they delight in this age-old game is reminiscent of an old, happily married couple. 

Christa tends to Rob’s every need, adjusting his bed tray, fixing his breathing tube, holding his hand. Rob gazes at his bride, humbly accepting her loving care and making her laugh through it all. The way they’ve shouldered difficult circumstances, embraced their cross and remained faithful is truly remarkable.

One week before Rob passed away, the Rubbens spoke candidly about their lives in a shared four-bed hospital room at Foothills Hospital, in between doctor consults, nurse rounds, family visits and much emotion. Speaking publicly about personal matters is unnatural to the couple, but Rob in particular felt called to give glory to God by sharing his story, which is in turn their story.

After a two year battle with colorectal cancer, Rob and Christa understand he has run out of medical interventions for a chance at a cure, but they have not run out of faith in God’s perfect plan.

Adult Diagnosis 

​In November 2022, at the age of 36, Rob’s diagnosis came as a shock not long after vacationing in New York City, where they were celebrating their five-year wedding anniversary. On the trip Rob felt exhausted and Christa noticed he looked really pale, so Rob decided to see his family doctor upon return. Their doctor ordered blood work and, when the results came in, they showed irregularly low hemoglobin levels. His doctor asked that Rob go directly to emergency for a blood transfusion. He was admitted to hospital for further testing and, about a week later, the biopsy results were conclusive. He had colorectal cancer.      

After removing the tumor, followed by six months of chemotherapy, Rob initially had clean scans. But about five months after treatment, scans showed growths in his peritoneum (the lining surface of the abdomen). This past January, Rob began treatment again, only this time the Rubbens invited their friends and family to pray a nightly Divine Mercy Chaplet together for a miraculous cure as well as for peace, strength, perseverance, trust and hope for the journey before them. 

Since that time, a group has met online each night for the chaplet. Participants take turns leading a decade and, more recently, have begun asking for the intercession of Saints to whom the couple have a devotion: St. Peregrine, St. John Paul II, St. Mother Teresa, Blessed Solanus Casey, and Sr. Wilhelmina of Missouri. 

For Rob, who was 38, praying the Divine Mercy prayer is about “a trust that God’s mercy is greater than all things. And He can do all things,” he said. “Now, is He going to do everything we want? [Not necessarily] But we don’t know what’s best either. I just think Divine Mercy is an opportunity to surrender that to God and trust in Him, trust that His mercy is always there.”

Rob & Christa

Rob, an accomplished chemical engineer, and Christa, a beloved high school science teacher, live in a Calgary bungalow with their loyal cat, Ryann. They enjoy wine and good food, card games, gardening, camping, hiking, and biking in and around Canmore. 

The couple first met on a hike with 20 mutual Catholic friends 14 years ago. Rob had just moved to Calgary after participating in a local mission with Catholic Christian Outreach (CCO), a university campus movement that he joined while studying at the University of British Columbia.

Reclined in bed, Rob’s eyes instantly brightened with light as he described the couple’s first encounter in vivid detail. “We broke away from the group and just got talking about this and that… Getting acquainted with one another,” said Rob.  

“I wouldn’t say the sparks were flying, but at the same time it was just nice to talk to you,” continued Rob, looking at Christa. “You were interesting and easy to talk to.” 

“That’s one thing I’ve always found in our marriage is wanting to spend time with Christa, wanting to talk to her. It’s not to say we don’t have our disagreements, but [our marriage has] always been very strong in terms of our friendship. It was just a really friendly chat. I definitely thought she was really cool and really interesting.” 
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Fast forward to today and the Rubbens would have been approaching seven years of marriage on October 7. They exchanged vows at a beautiful Calgary wedding at Holy Name Parish, with a fun reception at Heritage Park inside Gasoline Alley. To see them now, you might think this couple could just as well have been married 70 years the way their gaze holds a tenderness and wisdom, born of intentionally facing their challenges together.

“Never would I have thought two people could love each other as much as we do,” said Rob, wiping tears from his eyes.

Christa’s “number one quality without a doubt is how big her heart is,” said Rob, his voice cracking as he takes half a minute to compose himself. “She just cares so much for everyone and she does so much for everyone. She goes out of her way to love and care and she will just do it. She’s just the most kind-hearted person I’ve ever met.”

“I think I’m a good guy, but like just the way my brain works, I’m not wired the same way that she is – like to have that big of a heart,” finished Rob in a whisper of emotion. 

“All her other qualities are just so rooted in her love for everyone…. At the end of the day Christa’s capacity for love is so high that to me that’s all that matters.” 

Christa has been wholly devoted to Rob throughout his cancer journey, taking time off of work to sit with him in hospital as he receives chemotherapy treatment. Since Rob was admitted to Foothills Hospital in September, Christa has scarcely left his side. At night she curls up into his hospital bed, “taking up only a small piece of real-estate,” as she says, so he’s not alone through the long, oft painful nights.

For Christa, Rob provides stability and security in their relationship.   

“Rob has always made me feel very seen,” said Christa, choking back tears. “I’d never felt that way before, where someone truly saw me for who I was, and cherished it. It helped me come out of myself, which has been so incredible. 

“I think he sees the worth in people, and that’s such an incredible thing, and it’s blessed me so much. It’s made me more confident in who I am and my worthiness. I’ve always felt cherished by him from the very beginning. I feel he does that with everyone around him. 

“I feel comfortable and secure and safe and it’s a really beautiful thing. He’s dedicated and loyal and sees past the BS of things and it makes him a very strong man and a very strong man of faith. He just sees things clearly.” 

“A big joy in our marriage is our deep friendship. We are just like best friends,” said Christa, 38, holding back tears. “And legitimately just love hanging out and doing everything together.” 

“It’s always felt very easy and natural and we just fit into each other’s lives, and it’s always been like that, even though we’ve been through a lot of big heavy crosses.”

Family Life

A core cross within the Rubben’s marriage has been their struggle with infertility. 

“I think we both just really wanted to be parents…” said Rob. “It’s a hard dream to let go of.”
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Working with their counsellor, connecting with friends in the same or similar situation as well as seeking spiritual direction from their long-time friend Fr. Cristino Bouvette, have helped the pair navigate this suffering. 

Within the context of infertility, Fr. Cristino “reiterated to us that Rob and I are a family and we don’t have to have children to be a family, that was started when we got married,” said Christa. “That helped us solidify ourselves as our unit.”

The Rubbens learned how to hold the hard and the beautiful at the same time. 

“Joy and sorrow always go together, and we’ve lived that pretty deeply through our time.”

At the time of Rob’s cancer diagnosis the couple had been in the process of adoption, so the joy of the prospect of adding a child to their family had to sorrowfully be put on hold. 

“We’ve dealt with so many serious things, and at the same time, we try not to take life too seriously,” said Rob. “You have to laugh and joke about the hand you’ve been dealt. You have to keep it fun, playful, not too serious – light.”

Christa remembers when Rob was first in hospital, trying to figure out why his blood work was off.

“I got some ginger ale and some chips and we watched a movie with pop and chips in the hospital bed and it was really fun. It was one of those joyous moments in the midst of our life [being] turned upside down. But little things like that make things better,” said Christa, smiling with her eyes. 

Childhood Cancer

Considering Rob’s long history with cancer, it is miraculous that they could enjoy a sweet moment together in hospital waiting for his lab results. 

Rob spent a portion of his childhood – ages 7 through 11 years old – battling for his life. Doctors found a tumor the size of a small cantaloupe on his kidney on a Wednesday evening in November 1993. That Friday morning Rob underwent a 12-hour surgery to remove the growth. 

He still remembers all his treatments, the dates they started and finished, how many cycles, the types of procedures used. 

Over the course of the next year, Rob underwent chemotherapy. Three months after he finished treatment, a scan showed a small growth on his lung. This time Rob’s treatment was highly aggressive. The doctors performed a stem cell transplant, harvesting the stem cells from his own body. 

“It was intense,” said Rob. “They would blast you so hard they would entirely kill your immune system and then throw you into the isolation room. Each time I was in isolation for 10 days.”

Rob went through six rounds of this treatment, with three-week breaks in between. All told, he spent 60 days in isolation. Rob stayed in a small room with a bathroom and cot for visitors that had vacuum-sealed doors leading into a vacuum-sealed hallway. Anyone who entered had to gown, glove and mask. His parents alternated visits and volunteers spent time with him too, but there was also alone time. 

“It was hard. You are this eight/nine-year-old kid and you can’t do anything,” said Rob. “You can play board games, you can watch movies, read books, but you are in bed for 10 days at a time.” 

Rob’s scans came back clean for a year after treatment was finished, until a mandarin orange-sized tumor was found on his other lung. 

“They took it out, but it had rooted out like a spider, and had grown legs, so they couldn’t get all of it out,” said Rob. 

At this point, he was given a 10 percent chance of survival. Rob’s options were to try one last ditch effort at treatment or just to go home. 

“My parents were told, ‘Here’s our options, Rob’s probably going to pass away, but we could try this, but it will be our last shot.’ My parents told me about that, and asked me what I wanted to do, and I just wanted to keep fighting,” he said. 

Another year of combined radiation and chemotherapy treatment until Rob’s final round in November 1997. Rob then needed clean scans for two years to be considered cancer free.

“At that point I was at a very mentally unstable place. I was terrified. I knew there was nothing more we could do after this and you just sit around and wait for your scans to come and just wait to be delivered, in my opinion, the bad news. 

​“I was so stressed out. My parents could see how much it was impacting me, we just decided as a family that we weren’t going to do any more scans. The reason was, if they found something, nothing could be done, and this way we could get it out of our mind, and just try to start living. And then the cancer didn’t come back... I truly believe there were definitely miraculous hands at play.”

Miraculous Healing 

At first Rob was upset about all that happened to him, but, as his teenage years wore on, his perspective changed. Rob began to see his healing as a miracle. 

“The stories of prayer that I’d heard over time from others – that opened my eyes to what was at work,” said Rob. “Just hearing from my parents, ‘You are a miracle child,’ I think my parents shielded me from a lot of the severity of it. I don’t think they thought I was going to necessarily get better. They were told, ‘We don’t think that Rob’s going to be okay.’”

Rob was born to Peter and Donna Rubben on September 8, 1986 in Burnaby, BC. He grew up there with his brother, Alex, and sister, Jennifer. 

Family life was complicated with Rob’s childhood cancer and his younger brother, Alex, who has special needs. Nevertheless, everyone was appreciated for who they were within the family and they enjoyed doing favourite family pastimes together, like swimming and biking. 

When asked, Christa shared her impression of how different experiences have shaped their family.

“I can see it in all of you, you pay attention to the vulnerable,” said Christa to Rob. “You all have a heart for that in your own way. It’s your own Rubben-way, but you have a heart for caring for the vulnerable.” 

The Rubbens’ Irish-French Catholic roots run deep. Rob’s mother, the second of seven children born to Irish immigrants: John and Delia O’Neill; and his father, the fifth of eight children born to Henri and Rita Rubben of French-Canadian and Ottawa Valley roots, have always raised their family in the faith, attending Mass regularly.

“My parents have always maintained, ‘I don’t know how we could do this without faith,’” said Rob. “No one has ever been like ‘I want nothing to do with God, I’m super angry.’” 

There were many consolations within Rob’s childhood cancer journey. He was blessed with a faith-filled oncologist, Dr. Jeff Davis, who prayed for his healing. His family formed a lifelong friendship with the Davis family, and Rob remains friends with Dr. Davis’ son.

Rob recalled a story about seeing “the lights” wherein he had a very difficult night after one of his lung surgeries. Both lungs collapsed an hour apart. In the middle of the night, while the physiotherapists were working on him, Rob kept telling his mother ‘I’m seeing the lights.’ Meanwhile, Rob’s mother  told him to ‘hold on’ while she  prayed rosary after rosary. 

“I don’t know, was that just me dreaming, or was that me getting pulled into the afterlife? I don’t know, but it was pretty wild,” said Rob.   

​Rob lived life well and to the full after childhood cancer, building good friendships and approaching life with humour and wit. 

​Christa can testify that he doesn’t get worked up about the little things. “He really just ‘lived’, which I think is remarkable, considering all that he went through as a child,” she said.

Rob’s involvement with Catholic Christian Outreach in his last year of university and upon graduation as a young professional is where he learned how to deepen his faith and develop a personal relationship with Jesus.  ​

Heaven is for real

Since January, Rob has undergone aggressive treatment to shrink the peritoneum growths, so he could receive a specialized surgery called HIPEC (which Rob describes as marinating the growth in targeted chemotherapy). But in the spring, after four months of chemotherapy, the battle waged on with the discovery of new growths in his bones. All the while, Rob showed excellence in his profession, continuing to work nearly full-time with Canlin Energy and was even promoted as a team lead. 

Never losing hope, Rob endured complications in the summer that postponed his last chemo cycle before scans. When he found out the cancer had spread past the bones, he was gearing up for new treatment. But the cancer was spreading quickly now, creating complications with his liver, which made new treatment options unavailable. 

On September 11, Christa made the heart-breaking announcement on their CaringBridge site that Rob was being moved into palliative care. 

At day’s end on September 19, Rob passed away with Christa faithfully by his side. His funeral will be held October 5 at St. Anthony’s Church in Calgary at 1 p.m. with a reception to follow at Cabin Brewing Company; he will be interred inside Our Lady of the Rockies in Canmore. The funeral falls on the feast of St. Faustina Kowalska, who was divinely inspired to compose the Divine Mercy Chaplet, the same daily devotion the Rubbens and their community have prayed together daily since January. 

Throughout Rob and Christa’s journey, they have never strayed from Church teaching and miraculously retained the gift of ardent faith, hope and love. Here is Rob in his own words.

“There have been times where I’ve been like, ‘I can’t believe this is happening to me again.’ When I was a kid, maybe some anger, but this last time never any anger. I’ve just never wanted – since all that stuff as a child – I’ve never wanted to be angry at God. I just believe in Him and what He can do.

“I told Fr. Cristino that there’s two things that upset, anger, sadden and scare me about this whole thing. One of them is the people I’m going to leave behind, especially Christa,” said Rob, suddenly brought to tears. “Since I’ve met Christa all I’ve wanted to do is take care of her. That’s what matters most to me and it’s really hard to think about me not being there to take care of her. I know everyone else will, but it’s really heartbreaking for me.

“The other one is going downhill and knowing that there are going to be some pretty hard sufferings along the way. I know … as Christians, suffering is an important part of our journey, but you know… Jesus was in the Garden, and He wanted His suffering taken away. Even Jesus wanted that, and that’s hard cause I know how much He suffered.

“But in terms of dying, is there a God, is there no God, what do we really believe, our actual fundamental beliefs, I’m not scared of that and I’m not scared of, just dying and that’s it. I believe, like I really do, I’ve never been a person who’s wanted to turn his back on his belief in God. I’ve never wanted to turn my back on that, I’ve never wanted to not believe, and not be a Catholic. It’s always been really important to me.

​"I do believe in God’s mercy and heaven and eternal life with Him. And sometimes it’s hard to wrap your head around it from a less intellectual, more like a – this is a place I could be going soon. But I do believe. 

“I remember I contemplated heaven a fair bit for a while back when I was totally healthy and no issues, and I just think heaven and being with Jesus and the way Jesus will know us in heaven is just something that our earthly brains can’t even comprehend. So it might sound philosophical, but I just don’t think we have the brain power to understand that. So why contemplate it? Just trust. I think you just have to trust and believe that God is there. He’s real. He’s merciful, and He’ll take care of us.”

Written by Sara Francis for Faithfully. Sara is a writer living in Calgary with her husband Ben and their six children. They attend St. Bernard's / Our Lady of the Assumption Parish. Photos courtesy of Christa Rubben. 

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