I took Thomas today to see Mr. Quinn's body and pay our respects to Mrs. Quinn. Mrs. Quinn is absolutely devastated and honestly does not know what to do, but has been at the funeral home day in and day out to greet everyone who takes the time to come and visit her beloved husband.
It was difficult for Thomas, I could tell. He was very quiet and clung close to me. Mrs. Quinn did everything she could to make him comfortable. She lit incense for us and let us talk to his picture. Then he led us to Mr. Quinn. He was laid out in his uniform with all the things that he loved nestled around him. His extra pairs of glasses because he was always losing them, Sharpies because he would only write with them, Thin Mints, Jolly Ranchers, and bundles of 100 dollar bills. We paid our respects and were ushered into the kitchen where one of Mrs. Quinn's sisters insisted, "We are all family and you will stay and eat with us."
Later, we went back for the demonstration and were approached by one of Mrs. Quinn's brothers. He said that he was one of 10 kids in their family. Nine of them lived in Atlanta to "surround their mother." The other sibling was still in Vietnam. The other elderly relatives at the funeral were treated with the utmost respect.
Flashback a few weeks ago. I took the boys to meet a man whom I have known all my life. He and his wife were role models in our church and I remember them being present for most major events in my life, my sisters' lives, and other young people in our church's lives. Many years ago they sold their home and moved to an assisted living home. His wife died a few years back and I thought he had as well. He seemed old even when I was a teenager.
I took the boys to visit him. Surely he would remember me and would like a welcome reprieve from what I would assume was just another day. He was there and we were led to his room. He was asleep on a small bed in the corner of a double room and looked exactly the same, except with a little more unruly hair and less one front tooth. He was awakened by the nurse and was disoriented. I tried to talk to him, but he couldn't see well or hear. I wrote my name on a legal pad and showed it to him and for a moment, there was the recognition of my face. I tried introducing the boys to him, but he wasn't able to comprehend what was happening. We left there with many questions and I left sad.
I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't that. How could this man who had been so constant in my life be a little old man in a nursing home? Why was he there? What do I want for my family and myself when we are in that situation?
We are so busy. Our lives don't allow for the slow deterioration of a life that is ending. We have our work, our kids' sports, our own commitments.
It was just hard. Seeing Mr. Gannaway, seeing Mrs. Quinn mourn the loss of her love, and trying to explain these hard life lessons to two little boys who look to mom and dad to answer hard questions. Because there will be hard times that they will experience. Sooner, rather than later.
So, I will humble myself and ensure that I make the most of the time I have with those I love. I will try to help make the right decisions for them, not what is the most convenient or cost-effective. And I will try to make time for those to whom we should be seeking for guidance in how to live a good life. They are the ones who have the advice and the stories and the knowledge.
L
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