Still Remembering

Four years ago this week a good friend of mine died. I met Ken when I worked in the human resources field. Ken worked for a local city and we both regularly attended meetings of a group of HR professionals. After he retired, I hired him part-time to help me with some HR issues. We continued for several years as friends, having lunch together often.

Today, I received an email from Legacy.com asking if I would like to add another post on Ken’s four-year old on-line obituary page. I was surprised to see his obituary again. Had I not had that invitation, I might have not remembered a beautiful memory of one of our lunches. I wrote about Ken’s wonderful sense of humor, and the time our food server came to pick up Ken’s half-eaten plate of food. Ken had a tendency to tell stories at length and thus not keep up with my pace of eating. This time he put his hand over his plate and asked the waiter, “What’s wrong, are you running out of dishes back there?”

I laughed until I nearly fell off my chair. Ken had a great New England accent and you always knew where he stood on matters, like this action with the over-zealous waiter.

After I changed careers to grief and loss, Ken came to see me at my home. Ken’s wife had died a few months before. I knew Ken was grieving deeply as he had lost his best friend in life. Before he even crossed the street, he shouted, “Cowherd, I need to talk with you!”

I man-hugged him first in the middle of the street and led him to my doorstep. “I know you are helping others with this grief stuff, so I’m here to ask you how long this #+@&ed (add your expletive deleted letters) stuff lasts?”

I told him how grief differs among people depending on their relationship with the person and their ability to mourn (publicly grief) for the person they have lost. I mentioned several other aspects of grief which I thought might help. Ken, with tears in his eyes, said, “Well, keep talking and maybe you will tell me something that will help me!” 

Now, I switched my teaching to him and asked him to teach me about his grief by talking about his wife and his feelings. He shared about his love for her and how that will never be replaced and how hard these emotions were for him. This hardy New Englander had met his match. I shared my deep sorrow with him. He looked at me and said with a laugh, “Well let’s get together again when you learn something else that might be helpful.”

I had many lunches with Ken and I probably learned more from him than anything he gathered from me. But I do know one thing… I know it was helpful for him to share his stories. In that regard, I believe I did help him.Rest in peace my dear friend Ken on your fourth anniversary in heaven.