This evening I learned that someone I've known since 1976 passed away in hospital in the wee hours of this morning. He was 87 years old.
When I first met him, he was just a little older than I am now. I had a crush on one of his boys - what can I say, he was attractive and I was sixteen! - but he was 20-ish and "too old for me" ;) and so he introduced me to his younger brother, whom I dated for a little while. During that time, I got a chance to meet his dad, this wonderful man. He had such a quick wit and dry humour that I was constantly doing double-takes!
But it was his heart that touched me most. I instinctively knew that I could trust him and his lovely wife. They were the salt of the earth. This man was a living example of a Christian life lived well, doing no harm, doing good, being kind, quietly, unobtrusively.
I'll never forget when I was pregnant with my 2nd child. It was early in the pregnancy and I had been having morning sickness for a few weeks; I kept getting weaker and weaker, reduced to crackers and water. This one day I looked at my active 2-year-old, and I didn't have the strength to even change her night-time diaper. I reached for the phone and the first people I could think to call was this beautiful couple, then in their mid to late 60s, bent over but still willing. I knew that I could count on them. They arrived about 20 minutes later. She busied herself with my 2-year-old and he asked where the vacuum cleaner was.
Sitting on the sofa, I watched them, and the tears of gratitude were trickling down my face. I had been totally unaware of how sick I was. Their kindness and my helplessness made me realize that I needed help, and I went to the emergency ward that afternoon. They kept me on intravenous fluids for 4 days and on a liquid diet for another day before sending me home. I had been seriously dehydrated, near organ failure when I got to the E.R.
I believe this man and his wife helped to save my life.
When my husband's father died in 2004, my children kind of "adopted" this godly couple as their honorary grandparents. Their presence, their constancy, helped our teens through the grieving process; I'll bet they never even knew it.
We let him and his wife know several times and in several ways how much we appreciated them. We admired his quick turn of phrase, his quirky sense of humour (he thought in puns and/or in literal terms) and his kindness to any and all who crossed his path.
There is no doubt in my mind where the real man I grew to love and admire is right now. I can't help thinking about an old hymn called "My Ain Countree" which says in part (I will use the English translation instead of the Scottish burr), "The hills are flecked with flowers, many-tinted, fresh and gay, the birdies warble blithely, for my Father made them so - but these sights and these sounds will as nothing be to me, when I hear the angels singing in my own country."
His was a life lived well - to God (à Dieu) - and that's exactly what he's still doing.
When I first met him, he was just a little older than I am now. I had a crush on one of his boys - what can I say, he was attractive and I was sixteen! - but he was 20-ish and "too old for me" ;) and so he introduced me to his younger brother, whom I dated for a little while. During that time, I got a chance to meet his dad, this wonderful man. He had such a quick wit and dry humour that I was constantly doing double-takes!
But it was his heart that touched me most. I instinctively knew that I could trust him and his lovely wife. They were the salt of the earth. This man was a living example of a Christian life lived well, doing no harm, doing good, being kind, quietly, unobtrusively.
I'll never forget when I was pregnant with my 2nd child. It was early in the pregnancy and I had been having morning sickness for a few weeks; I kept getting weaker and weaker, reduced to crackers and water. This one day I looked at my active 2-year-old, and I didn't have the strength to even change her night-time diaper. I reached for the phone and the first people I could think to call was this beautiful couple, then in their mid to late 60s, bent over but still willing. I knew that I could count on them. They arrived about 20 minutes later. She busied herself with my 2-year-old and he asked where the vacuum cleaner was.
Sitting on the sofa, I watched them, and the tears of gratitude were trickling down my face. I had been totally unaware of how sick I was. Their kindness and my helplessness made me realize that I needed help, and I went to the emergency ward that afternoon. They kept me on intravenous fluids for 4 days and on a liquid diet for another day before sending me home. I had been seriously dehydrated, near organ failure when I got to the E.R.
I believe this man and his wife helped to save my life.
We let him and his wife know several times and in several ways how much we appreciated them. We admired his quick turn of phrase, his quirky sense of humour (he thought in puns and/or in literal terms) and his kindness to any and all who crossed his path.
There is no doubt in my mind where the real man I grew to love and admire is right now. I can't help thinking about an old hymn called "My Ain Countree" which says in part (I will use the English translation instead of the Scottish burr), "The hills are flecked with flowers, many-tinted, fresh and gay, the birdies warble blithely, for my Father made them so - but these sights and these sounds will as nothing be to me, when I hear the angels singing in my own country."
His was a life lived well - to God (à Dieu) - and that's exactly what he's still doing.
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