How Do We Show and Share Our Grief During a Pandemic?
Recently I learned that a good friend of mine passed on. When I learned that he didn’t have much time left, I told my wife I would make the drive across Missouri to remember a man who was an important part of my formative years.
Now I can’t do that.
Because of the restrictions in place, I’m forced to grieve alone. I know others are grieving too. I know his family is heartbroken at the loss of their patriarch. I grieve for them as much as I grieve for the passing of my friend.
I’m not a fan of Hemingway, but he got it right when he said about writing, “just sit at the typewriter and bleed.”
I intend to do just that.
Bob Denby is the epitome of what it means to be from the Midwest of the United States. He was friendly, kind, and compassionate. He was patient and understanding and faithful to his friends, family, and Savior.
I met the Denbys when my family started attending Nall Avenue Baptist Church. Soon after, I joined the church Boy Scout troop. Bob and his son Mark were always there to help me when I needed it.
Specifically, I remember Bob’s patience as he guided me through three merit badges required to earn Eagle Scout honors. Citizenship in the Community, Citizenship in the Nation, and Citizenship in the World. He showed me the importance of civics and what it means to be a responsible citizen.
Bob was a mainstay in our troop and in our church. He treated me like he treated his own children and because of him and his family, I always felt welcome and wanted.
I honestly believe the world needs more men like Bob Denby. In my eyes, he was the picture of what God intended a man to be. He was a humble servant to his fellow believers, a father who delighted in the accomplishments of his children, a husband who cherished his wife, and a friend who cared and loved even the most unlovable among us.
Even though it has been years since I’ve seen Mr. Denby, I will always cherish the memories I have with him and his family.
His wife, Nancy, was always welcoming and warm to me. If she ever said anything negative about anyone else, I don’t remember hearing it.
His daughter, Ruth, was, and still is, a kind, thoughtful, and generous person. She taught was it means to be there for others, even when it’s not the easy thing to do.
And his son Mark. We share too many memories to list here. Some good, some not so good, and some I’ll probably never share with another living soul. He was like a big brother to me and I’ll forever be thankful.
The Denbys are those people you always want to spend time with. They’re the ones that make you feel like you’re home. I know this is a direct reflection of the type of man Bob Denby was.
While I grieve alone in my home with people who never knew Bob or his family, I am reminded of the faith we shared as Easter approaches.
I’m reminded that because the tomb was empty, I will see Bob again in glory.
I don’t know the answer to my question. I don’t know how we grieve in isolation. I would much rather grieve and celebrate the life of Bob with his family and friends.
I do know that one day this will end. I know that when it does, I will plan on visiting his final resting place, and his son, and his daughter. So, Mark and Ruth, make room, because there are six of us.
I know that I’m saddened by the passing of Mr. Denby, a man who was a mentor and a friend. I know that I’m hurting for his family. They must remember him privately, without the comfort of friends and extended family.
I also know that we could use more Bob Denbys. I’m so thankful that he and his family were a part of my life.
Rest in peace, Mr. Denby. I’ll come to say good-bye as soon as I can. I’ll just be a little late.