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 “What’s
the worst thing that can ever happen to you?.....you die. What’s the
best thing that can ever happen to you? You die and go to heaven.
….no worries.” So was the mantra that my Mac would rattle off
throughout the decades.
On September 27, 2025, my beloved Mac got to see the face of his
God. His death was a surprise, a shock, a staggering blow out of
nowhere. He worked one day, had a stroke the next, was air flighted
to Rockford, spent time there, brought back to our home to be
surrounded by family and friends as he left this world. I cannot
articulate the vast loneliness and pain I feel going through this
life without him.
I never wrote, submitted, or printed a word that he hadn’t read or
critiqued. He was my biggest fan and my biggest censurer. I’m not
sure I can continue without him, but I need to get this column out
to you.
I wrote repeatedly that he brought me a cup of coffee every morning
and a glass of wine every evening. He can’t do that anymore, but
that memory brings such a warm glow of his love and dedication to me
that it softens the pain.
We sat side by side and cried at the assassination of Charlie Kirk.
Not that we were his biggest fans, but that the world had come to
such a thing. We prayed together daily for our country to become
whole again as one unit.
We praised God constantly that we had found one another and had 43
years of loving one another, loving our children, grandchildren and
great grands. What blessings had been bestowed upon us.
We loved growing old together. Our Thursday cheese, crackers and
wine supper while watching Bobby Flay was something we looked
forward to and cherished. Not exciting to anyone else, but ever so
special to us.
Mac never realized that there was a foot difference in our heights.
I was forever dragging stools around to reach the things that he had
stowed away. I remember so many times trying to “think like Mac” so
I could find something he had put away for me. Let me tell you a
story about that.
My cousin, Eileen, and her husband, Ron, were good friends of ours.
We had many wonderous times together. It broke our hearts when Ron
passed away a few years ago. He had used a walker to help get
himself around. Because I have so many problems with my knees,
Eileen gave me the walker to use when I needed it. Mac stored it for
me. Now stay with me as this story will take some curves and bumps
along the way.
A week after Mac’s services, I had Stanley Steemer come clean my
carpets. Eight days of Mac in the hospital were eight days too much
for my two cats and one dog. Friend, Shanon, was fabulous and came
twice a day to feed and care for them, but there were accidents. As
the crew of two were setting up in front of the house, I walked out
the side door to my car. I only had the car keys in my hand. I
didn’t miss the step, I just put my right foot down and it twisted
and my ankle broke. Kind of a swan dive off the back porch so to
speak. I couldn’t get back up. Yep. Just like the lady on the TV
commercial…. “I’ve fallen and can’t get up.”
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I tried to hail them down, but they were busy, and the truck was
running, hose pumping, etc. I crawled into the house, through the
breezeway and kitchen and found them in the dining room. They asked
if I was OK. I said no. They kindly got me in a chair and found my
phone for me. I called my sweet neighbors, and they took me to
Urgent Care.
It was a blow as they registered me and read Mac was my emergency
contact and could they call him for me. My neighbor gently took over
as I sobbed and ugly cried. Anyway, long story short, I’m back home
with boot, and need a walker. I told my neighbor there was a fine
one hanging in the garage. Three people searched my garage and attic
thereof. No fine, blue chrome walker to be found.
I’m positive that in heaven my Mac and Ron are shouting down to us
and pantomiming to us where said walker is. Shanon had to go out to
Walmart…. of a Saturday morning….brave the crowd and bring back a
very useful, if not dull, black walker. No seat, no chrome, no flash
of Cubby blue. Heavy sigh.
So as advice to anyone that is still following this saga, please
store things in a reasonable place that is accessible to those in
need.
Mac’s service was lovely, if one can say such a thing about
something so painful. Standing room only, perfect number of flowers,
generous donations to St. Judes and Shriner’s Children Hospital. His
childhood friend…. they became best friends forever…in their
strollers as their mothers walked them down the streets of Tiskilwa…gave
his eulogy. Listen to Brad Paisley’s song, “He Didn’t Have to be”.
That was at the request of his stepson. Mercy Me singing, “I Can
Only Imagine” was also played. I always said after greeting my
savior my first words would be…. Where’s Chad?” (My son that resides
in Glory). Mac teased after honoring Jesus, he would say, “Jesus….
about those pyramids????” A treasured friend sang “Amazing Grace (My
Chains are Gone)”. A 1934 polished Ford stood outside the funeral
home, and one of Mac’s best buddies drove me home in it. Charlie and
I both agreed as we drove down the shade dappled street to home, Mac
was smiling from above.
I thank all my family and friends that were there for us during
those three hellish weeks. You are appreciated beyond words can say.
“Take more pictures. Always say I love you. Hug a little tighter.
Talk a little longer. Make as many memories as you can. This life is
short.” Loveth G Wealth.
L. Maxine McQueen
may be contacted at
maxmac.1@juno.com
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