By W.H. WATERS

How does one value friendship? How does it live and grow into something of real value? It seems to me it has to be a two-way street. In the give-and-take of life, each feels gladness in the others’ presence.

In recent months, the loss of the presence of John Jackson surely made me sad. I was not along for his wife, Susan, dearly loved him and he certainly returned her affection.

By W.H. WATERS

How does one value friendship? How does it live and grow into something of real value? It seems to me it has to be a two-way street. In the give-and-take of life, each feels gladness in the others’ presence.

In recent months, the loss of the presence of John Jackson surely made me sad. I was not along for his wife, Susan, dearly loved him and he certainly returned her affection.

If you knew John you realized he had multiple sclerosis. He had to retire from his work as a CPA, but he never retired from battling the disease.

Susan stayed active in her job, and it was a responsible position. John did not want her to not be free to continue and even staying home he did things to make her feel free to keep the hours necessary to do her job. He did the things at home that would make it easier for her.

Susan realized how John battled to keep his independence. They were both at church most every Sunday. Sunday would come in and sit and wait for John. He went to the rear of the building where few people entered. If you looked down the hall, you might see him or his walker battling to make it in alone. Susan never hovered over him but let him fight the fight that was of such value to him.

John was the son of Jack Jackson and they lived on East Spring Street near Dr. Sam McFarland. Dr. Sam Grady McFarland was one of John’s playmates.

He was at visitation before the funeral. In talking to him, he told me what a great athlete John was. He was quarterback at Lebanon High and he was fast, a good passer and a battler beyond belief. He said, “I just had to drive over from Bowling Green to pay my respects.” Men do love one another.

Every Sunday when I saw John he greeted me with a smile. He would then ask me about my eyes. John truly had concern for me. How could I possibly not relay some concern for him but not so much that I might make him think that I viewed him as disabled?

Now and then Susan would be out of town on a work detail. John was at church. When I asked about her, he smiled and gave me a report. Susan, when I asked about John, would usually say he’s on his way, and if not, she gave me details of why.

John and Susan loved one another dearly. Susan worried about John and feared something would happen to him and she would not be there. For years nothing did happen, but then something did. The gutter on the front of the house had a problem. Susan asked him to wait until she could be home. John, the determined, got his ladder and no doubt climbed up to the gutter. When Susan came home, she found his body and in deep grief blamed herself.

I feel that death was preferable to John rather than being looked at as totally unable to live.

I love John for his smile, his determination, and for being a “soldier of the Cross.”

May we all reach to Susan and give her love and care for loneliness has to be a part of her new life. Let us let her know she is of value to us.

Editor’s Note: Mr. W.H. Waters is a resident of Lebanon and a contributor to The Wilson Post’s Opinion page.