Saying he was an awesome guy is a royal understatement. He was definitely one to look up to. He loved his wife, his family, his church, his town....
Towards the end, he needed a lot of help. Those he had sacrificed on behalf of for years, were there to take care of him. I learned a lot during that time.
Alzheimer's is one of the hardest diseases to comprehend. I will never understand it.
Love has been modeled to me in many ways, but few as complete as the story of these two people.
You see, his wife, my precious Grandma Louise, has loved him nearly her entire life (she certainly still does). From the stories she's shared with me, her interest in him started around age 16. She's now 89.
They married on January 27, 1944. That was during World War II. FDR was president. The Braves were still in Boston.
I'm currently looking at a copy of the message/vows that Pastor Miller used during their wedding ceremony.
Grandma Louise agreed to the following:
"In taking this young man you hold by the right hand as your lawful and wedded husband, you must, in like manner as he, in the presence of God, His Angels, and these witnesses, promise to be unto him, in all walks of life, like joy, sorrow, prosperity and poverty, a loving and devoted wife, leaving all others, cleaving wholly unto him. Do you so promise?"
And did she ever.
On Christmas morning (2008), Grandma gave each of her grandchildren, a framed-sampling of Grandpa Quentin's ties. And, of course, cried in the process.
Theirs is a love to follow.