I realize that most people—perhaps especially Carol—could find what I am about to write morbid. I understand that. But allow me to explain why I am undertaking a summary of my wife’s life while she is still very much alive. The thought came to me during a memorial service for an old acquaintance of ours. His wife gave a very touching eulogy. She reminded me of the good that Jack had accomplished in his life.
One example, Jack did not work outside the home for the first several years we knew him. But he was far from idle. He was primary caregiver for two foster sons. He grew an incredibly abundant and beautiful vegetable garden. Most importantly, from our perspective, he cared for the very elderly people in our church. Many of them were shut-ins, forgotten by their families and most of our congregation, including our pastor at the time. Jack visited them all regularly, saw to it that they had their pantries and refrigerators stocked with tasty, wholesome food, drove them to their many doctors’ appointments, and organized work parties from our congregation to handle home repairs. It was his example that inspired Carol to “adopt” one of the elders in our church, bringing him into our home for meals regularly, making the final years of his life a little easier, more enjoyable.
While his wife was speaking, I kept wishing Jack had been there to hear how much he was appreciated. Maybe he knew he was loved by his family and friends. But I bet even the people who loved him the most did not let him know clearly enough, often enough just how much they treasured him. I was reminded of Mark Antony’s famous line from Julius Caesar: “The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.” And that thought reminded me that I too seldom remind my wife that I love her, admire her, find her life even inspirational at times. So I am going to let her know, in my own inadequate way, how much her life has mattered--and continues to matter--to a whole host of people. The two words that best summarize Carol’s life are “Work” and “Serve.”
I grew up in a family that worked, and I was taught to work from a very early age. But I typically associated “work” with “drudgery,” something to be done as quickly as possible, something to get out of the way, so that I could play: sports, games, things done purely for fun. But for as long as I have known her (going back to our freshman year of college in 1969), Carol had a very different attitude about work: it was an activity that she enjoyed doing. Not just that she could take satisfaction in the final outcome of work: the good feeling that comes from knowing you have done a job well. She found pleasure in the process of work itself. Getting lost in the moment, forgetting the time, allowing the task before her to completely absorb her attention while she was engaged in it. In some sense, perhaps, a sort of “therapy.” Observing her over the decades, I eventually developed that same attitude for myself, at least in some things, like cooking.
We might admire some people who are hard workers, but acknowledge that the work they perform so well is done for purely selfish reasons, or see how they allow their work to keep them from other worthwhile, even more important, activities and commitments. The classic bad example is probably a parent who ignores his or her children for the sake of work. Carol is not like that. She leads a balanced life, has always valued her relationships with her child, her grandchildren, her extended family, her friends—even me. What I find particularly noteworthy is the way she makes ordinary tasks, like baking or cooking or gardening, into something her grandchildren want to do with her, something that they enjoy, because Grandma finds ways to share the work with them, giving them responsibility to do the things that they are able to do, praising them for a job well done, correcting their mistakes without making them feel inadequate.
Probably what best characterizes Carol’s work is that it is work done in the service of others. Her choice of profession, for example. She taught elementary school for 30 years. And she chose to work most of her career in a rural county in Georgia among people who generally did not value education, with students who had much to overcome. She could have found easier places to work. In fact, after she finished her Ed.D, she probably could have found a college position (as her husband did). But she saw the great need where she was, and she knew she was very well-qualified by training and temperament to provide the help her students needed.
Beyond her professional commitments, she sought out ways to serve others. I already mentioned her “adopting” one of the elders in our church as he was no longer able to care for himself without aid. One Wednesday afternoon she announced that Mr. Vass was coming to dinner that night and then accompanying us to our prayer group from church. Mr. Vass was a sweet man. But it was Wednesday during the school year. I was tired, not ready to entertain anyone. But I wasn’t going to argue. I could get through dinner that one night. What I didn’t know was that Carol planned to make this a regular part of our week. And what I discovered over the next several years, before Mr. Vass left this earth, was that serving others can enhance one’s pleasure in living in ways that I never imagined. Mr. Vass was an entertaining storyteller, a kind and thoughtful man of God whom I never heard complain. He became a second father to us and a second grandpa to our son. I am a better person for knowing John—something I would have never experienced if Carol had not taken the initiative.
That is just one example among many. Over the decades Carol has found herself in relationships with women friends who are in need of companionship. Sometimes she has sought out a person where she recognizes their need. At other times, she has been sought out because of something in her that attracts them to her. These are people who sometimes have real physical needs, but who mostly need a friend who is willing to listen to them, to sympathize with them, to support them as they navigate their lives. In some cases, to tell them hard truths about themselves and their situations, able to do that in such a loving, caring way that these friends are able to accept difficult advice and make uncomfortable, but necessary changes in themselves or their circumstances.
This is something that she does by herself. I probably don’t even know all the women she has befriended over the years. But she has led me into service for our extended families that we do together. Just one example: She was her widowed mother’s primary support as she recovered from major heart surgery. Her good example helped me see that we should welcome her mother into our home, allow her to live with us while she did rehab. This was a decision that made all of us nervous, her mother and I most of all. I was prepared to “slog through” the months of therapy. But what I expected to be a very long, uncomfortable year of self-sacrifice turned into one of the best years of my life. My mother-in-law and I developed a wonderful relationship over that year. She was not a bother! Quite the opposite. She was a delight. Again, as with Mr. Vass, this was something I would not have experienced if Carol had not led me to do what needed to be done, what I should have done.
Carol will never be famous. She might never receive any public recognition for all the good she has done. I do not think she would want it. What I think she will treasure upon her entrance into the Kingdom of Heaven is to hear her Lord say “well done” for the many ways she has served Christ as she has given herself to “the least of these His brothers and sisters.” And before it is too late, while she can still appreciate it, I want to add my little “Well done” to His.