“My Songbird Is Gone” — Dwina Gibb Opens Up About Love, Loss, and Life After Robin
In her first interview since the passing of her beloved husband Robin Gibb, Dwina Gibb speaks with remarkable tenderness and honesty about their love story, the heartbreak of his final days, and the legacy he leaves behind.
Robin Gibb, one-third of the legendary Bee Gees, passed away in May after a courageous battle with cancer. At his bedside throughout was Dwina — his wife of over three decades — alongside their son Robin-John (known as R-J) and Robin’s elder brother Barry, who had flown in from Miami, heartbroken to witness his last surviving brother fighting for his life.
Dwina recounts those harrowing, intimate moments in the hospital. “Barry began to sing to Robin, and even though he was unconscious, his lips moved in time with the words,” she recalls, emotion thick in her voice. “When we played I Started a Joke, tears rolled down his cheeks. It was extraordinary.”
A particularly poignant moment came when Dwina played Titanic Requiem, a classical piece Robin had composed with their son. “During a powerful section called Distress, the medical monitors showed sudden activity. The nurse was amazed. Moments later, Robin opened his eyes. Music truly brought him back to us, if only for a while.”
Those final weeks were a bittersweet blessing. “We had time,” Dwina says softly. “Time for films, laughter, and memories. He never spoke as though he was giving up. Robin was so brave.”
The couple’s life together had always been filled with adventure, drama, and humor. They first met in 1980, discovering they shared the same birthday and a deep mutual love of art and music. Robin, famously charming and witty, was captivated by Dwina’s artistic spirit, eventually commissioning drawings from her — though she playfully delayed finishing them for fear the relationship might end.
They married in 1985, opting for a modest registry office ceremony. In a rush and without wedding rings, they exchanged meaningful tokens instead — an Anglo-Saxon ring for Robin and a star-shaped diamond ring for Dwina, cherished symbols of their bond.
In October 2010, Robin’s illness first revealed itself. What began as stomach cramps quickly turned life-threatening. An emergency operation uncovered a severe blockage and early signs of cancer. Even then, Dwina remembers, Robin refused to entertain the thought of defeat. He was determined to tour Australia and New Zealand, performing for fans despite warnings from doctors and pleas from family.
“Robin never wanted to hear bad news,” Dwina admits. “He didn’t want to stop creating, performing, or living. He had this sense of urgency — as if he knew time was limited but couldn’t bear to acknowledge it.”
Robin was convinced he would overcome the illness, and at times his doctors were astonished by his resilience. Even through rounds of chemotherapy, he worked tirelessly on Titanic Requiem, a project dear to his heart, meant to honor the 100th anniversary of the ship’s sinking.
When the requiem premiered in April, Robin lay in a coma, unable to attend. Dwina, torn between duty and despair, made her way to the performance. “I broke down,” she remembers. “All Robin wanted was to be there, to see it through.”
After his passing, Robin was brought home to their historic Oxfordshire estate — a 12th-century monastery steeped in history, which the couple had lovingly restored. His loyal Irish wolfhound Ollie refused to leave his master’s side, keeping vigil by the coffin overnight.
Robin’s final journey was marked by a fittingly unique tribute: a white coffin carried by glass carriage, led by black horses and a Scottish piper. Friends and family cast red roses — Robin’s signature gift to Dwina — onto the coffin. Their son, R-J, delivered a moving eulogy, calling Robin “my best friend, my daddy, my inspiration.”
Today, Dwina finds solace in meditation, memories, and Robin’s old teddy bear, which she now keeps close. She’s surrounded by the art, books, and keepsakes they collected together, reminders of a love that was both ordinary and extraordinary.
“I was so lucky,” Dwina says with a wistful smile. “To live alongside a man who could touch the world with his music. Robin wasn’t just my husband. He was my muse, my friend, and my greatest adventure.”
Now, she plans to return to her own creative work — writing, painting, and perhaps sharing her own story. “I am proud of Robin,” she says. “Proud of his brilliance, his courage, and the joy he brought to so many. And I am grateful I was able to share his life.”
