Friend remembered for kindness

There are people who make an indelible impression on our lives. I lost one of those people last week.
I did not know him when he served his country during the Korean conflict. I did not know him when he was a young man raising his children or when he took them hiking in the mountains. I did not know him when he worked for a local factory. I did not know him for most of his life. Yet, I feel the pain of his passing; one more hole in the Swiss cheese of my past.
I met Chuck during the evening of his time here on Earth. Among many other things, he was a master woodcarver whose greatest pleasure was sharing his knowledge with others. One time he and I were the only two who showed up for carving. Instead of calling off the evening, he sat me down and said, “I’m going to teach you how to carve a nose.”
He patiently walked me through the process and then we started on eyes. I still have the piece I practiced on along with the one he carved as a demonstration.
He had an excellent eye for what needed to be done to a carving to improve it. Even when he told me that I had sliced off a bit too much, he followed that dismaying bit of news with instructions on how to fix it.
As a new carver, I didn’t have any tools. He loaned me a knife and I broke the tip off of it. I was afraid to tell him but when I confessed my transgression, he promptly told me that it happens and that it was fixable.
The following week he showed me that he had sharpened the knife and the traces of my mishap were nowhere to be seen. Then he told me to take it home and use it some more.
He was like that with everybody. I never saw him in a bad mood. Towards the end, it was apparent that his hands were bothering him. More and more, he came to the meetings to visit and share his knowledge and his tools stayed packed away.
Then, while my husband and I were visiting the grandkids a month or so ago, I came back to find out that he had had a heart attack. It was touch and go for a while but he recovered enough to be released to a local rehabilitation facility.
Last week he was feeling well enough for a field trip. One of the other club members brought him over for a meeting. He was the same old Chuck. He gave each of us tips on how to make our projects better. He said he didn’t realize it would be so hard to be there and not have a knife in his hands. He looked great. I honestly thought he was going to beat the grim reaper. I thought he was going to recover enough to go home, at least for a while.
The following morning my husband took the call that told us he was gone.
My life is richer for having known him.
I knew him for only a few short years. I listened to his stories. I watched him as he treated everybody he met with kindness. I listened to him brag about his grandson. I saw the love and respect he commanded from others. I wish I could be half as good a person as he was. I miss him but am grateful for the blessing of having known him. Rest in peace, Chuck.[[In-content Ad]]