We Are At That Age

We are at the age where we go to more memorial gatherings than baby showers and more funerals than weddings.  I have already written about my feelings about funerals -- I go to them whenever I can. It is important to me to be present, in support, as a listener, to be part of honoring someone as they leave our world.  So often I learn things I had never imagined about the life story of the person who has died, or about the family, and it just adds so much to my understanding about the person. 

Today's memorial event was for a neighbor I did not know well.  When he came to Blueberry Hill, he had already suffered a traumatic brain injury a few years before, so I never knew him as his real self.  I went to the gathering out of respect for his wife, and because that is what we do here.  No matter what, we support our mourners and we mourn with them.

This man had an amazing life.  Absolutely amazing.  (His wife sent this to us: "For those that are interested, please go to the link http://www.arlingtonsistercity.com/ to see an interview with Jim about his role in the Arlington Sister City Association (ASCA). Just click the link Interview with Jim Rowland in the Popular list. Jim believed in international understanding at the grass roots level - he helped to build ASCA from its early days - he was a great host to numerous international students and had friends in many countries as a result. I think this story is interesting in and of itself and for me it also has the flavor and feel of Jim, since it was based on an oral interview.")

All of his siblings and their families were there today, as well as his ex-wife and a whole other family, plus people who must have worked with him (there were no formal introductions), plus us.   There were several themes that came through -- he was a brilliant guy who had lots of unusual ideas, many talents and skills, a quirky way about him, he loved young people, he was generous and kind, he made his siblings do all kinds of wacky things because it was entertaining, he had a flare for the bizarre, he could learn to do anything.  They didn't talk much about his brain injury, which he got in some freak mugging in McLean, never solved, but it clearly changed his life completely.  

One of our newest neighbors who has lived here for less than six months said something eloquent and touching, directly to Jim's wife.  She thanked her for modeling a kind of love that we don't appreciate or honor enough -- when times were tough, his wife stayed right by him and took care of him with devotion and respect. It was an unusual and lovely observation, and I was stunned by her clarity. 

My own experience with Jim was one of patient listening as he repeated some thoughts or ideas. I missed out on the quirky, funny, high level Jim.  We only knew the kind, open-hearted, kid-friendly man who slowly deteriorated and began to despair. 

No one gets to choose the end of the story, and that is a hard thing.  But he lived his life to the best of his abilities, and people loved him a lot.  You can't do better than that.