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My
job for this paper is to write articles that make you relax, smile,
reminiscence, and leave you feeling happy to have read it. I’m
hoping that is your reaction with this column, as I will be more
serious but yet sprinkle you with a bit of humor.
“Death is the starlit strip between the companionship of yesterday
and the reunion of tomorrow.” Mark Twain.
My Mac had a brain aneurysm on September 13, 2025. With all that was
humanly possible from two hospitals, he walked into Glory on
September 27, 2025. I was blessed to be his wife for 42 years, 2
months and 23 days. I praise God for that time. I wouldn’t have
missed it for all the pain grief brings.
Mac dearly loved reading volume upon volume about Winston Churchill.
Here is a quote Churchill said that my husband chuckled over. “I am
prepared to meet my maker. Whether my maker is prepared for the
great ordeal of meeting me is another matter.”
I’m sure that Mac raced St. Peter to the gate to greet Lindsey
Graham upon the politician’s death in July. He was in the throngs
that waved hello to Dolly Parton. He has sat and had conversations
with the great David Pearson who even Richard Petty said was the
best there ever was….and he drove a Ford. He has doted over our son,
Chad. Mac has cornered Moses about the plagues, and asked Elijah if
he went to heaven in a chariot of fire and horses or did a whirlwind
take him..
I so believe in the thought that it is so much easier for the ones
who have died and gone before us than it is for those of us left
behind.
Let me offer some dos and don’ts of helping the grieving. Please
don’t go into a plethora of scripture and poetry about death. Our
minds aren’t up for that. We can barely get up in the mornings and
make a cup of coffee. Don’t tell us how long to grieve, when to take
off our wedding rings, when we should plow back into the world or
that it is wrong to hunker down in the silence of our own home.
Do check on us. Yes, when we are home, we want to be out in the
world. When we are out in the world we only desire to be home. Be
patient with us.
Do drop off food, gift certificates for groceries or restaurants.
Even if we weep when we accept them, we are appreciative.
One of my friends brought me an ice-cold Diet Coke, sat with me and
alternately held my hand or wiped my tears.
A cousin, standing silently behind me at the funeral took my dirty,
Kleenexes and handed me a fresh one. She made sure a bottle of water
was there and a chair when I needed it.
There’s an anonymous quote that says, “Life is pleasant. Death is
peaceful. It’s the transition that’s troublesome.”
My husband was in the ICU for eight days and home on hospice for a
week. I had very little sleep or food during that time. I had to
sign papers on my husband’s health that broke my heart. I didn’t
know if it was day or night. Please don’t expect the loved ones of
the dying to be hospitable. We can’t make small talk. We can’t fix
you a drink or a snack. We can’t promise you we will even be
coherent.
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We will laugh inappropriately. We will burst into sobs at the
slightest sign of sympathy. We will stand stoic when we are
completely broken hearted. Do not think you can judge us by our
outward appearance.
Please check on us after the services. We have a tendency to become
clumsy due to lack of sleep, lack of nourishment, and grief. I fell
off our back porch right after Mac’s funeral and broke my ankle.
Then I fell in the house and had to go to Urgent Care for stitches.
I found out this is not at all unusual. We become disoriented.
Be patient. Be patient. Be patient. We truly don’t know what we want
at first. Offer to take us to church. Offer repeatedly but not
powerfully. We will feel different on different Sundays. Leave us
brochures on grief counselling. I’m currently attending Grief Share
and highly recommend it. Find one that fits your personality. Let us
accept help in our own time.
I have a stuffed hippo. It is a replica of NCIS’s Abby’s, Bert, the
farting hippo. His battery died and he couldn’t poot. When Mac
passed, I held tight to Bert in our bed because it was so empty. I
felt it wasn’t really Bert without his capacity to break
wind….flatus….. toot….whatever. My cousins came while I had on the
foot boot and the finger brace and wanted to help me. I asked to
please fix Bert. Jimmy never said a word. I found out later he drove
to the store, got the correct battery, raided Mac’s toolbox for the
right screwdriver and got ole Bert back into working condition. He
gently handed me my Bert back with a smile and a hug. I will forever
be beholding to him. No judgment. No jokes. No argument. He just did
what I asked.

Do talk to us about our loved ones. We cherish your memories of
them. We will listen to them again and again.
One of our employees opened a shop like we use to have. He named it,
“Dan’s Legacy Diesel” after Mac. He’s carrying on Mac’s lifelong
dream. A legacy indeed.
“Let us all live so that when we come to die even the undertaker
will be sorry” Twain.
The funeral director is a good friend of one of our sons, and he
indeed was sorry. What more could a man want?
“Well done, good and faithful servant.” Matthew 25:21
A life well lived, my love. A life well lived.
L. Maxine McQueen
may be contacted at
maxmac.1@juno.com |