Gary Alton Mathews

My father-in-law passed away two weeks ago. He had been ill for several years and passed away from complications of colon cancer. Being relatively newly married (11 months and counting) and not living in the same states, I did not know him well. His original illness (before the cancer)started 3 years ago, three days after Christmas. A young family who attended the same religious congregation had lost their father. They were packing up to move closer to family. At 61 Gary was one of the first to volunteer to help them move. He fell down the stair and was in a coma. Whether the fall caused the stroke or the stroke caused the fall will never be known but Gary was never the same. He was left with the cognitive abilities of a first grader. I never met him before he got sick.
The few times that I did meet Gary he told me long stories that didn't necessarily end. While my husband and I were still dating he told me several times about the day my husband scheduled 3 dates in the same day with 3 different girls (much to my husband's dismay). Once when Gary was telling me a thrilling story about getting pulled over by a highway patrolman while speeding (whom he convinced to not give him a ticket by telling him about Jesus) my husband tried to steer the conversation and correct the story. In a skill that the last 11 months have honed I gave my husband what I call, "the stink eye." He whispered, "but that's not true. It didn't happen!" I whispered back, "I don't care. It doesn't matter."

I went to church with Gary once in the congregation that he led for a time and that he attended for nearly 30 years. During class he raised his hand and gave comments that didn't always relate to the topic, were lengthy and frequent but the others smiled and said, "thank you Gary" every time he finished. No one seemed to mind. Coming home from church I was talking to my mother-in-law about the experience (she had been in another room). She got embarrassed and said, "I usually try to moderate his comments a little."

What my husband and mother-in-law didn't realize is that Gary's lifetime of serving other people, of helping every family move and staying to clean up after events had heard him a little leeway from the rest of us. We loved Gary whether or not his stories always made sense. Now, you may be thinking, "but you said that you never met Gary before he was sick." That is true. But I have met my husband. On our first date my husband had to drop me off early because he was volunteering with the Special Olympics the next day. He is really disappointed that he can't volunteer here (it's 12 hours long I'd like to point out) this weekend because we have house guests. I have a good husband who tries to serve other people. He learned that from his dad.
At Gary's funeral and burial thought, over and over again, of the words to a famous Beatles song; "in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make." I've come to another conclusion; you don't take the love with you. It stays here and blesses those you serve, your children, your friends and everyone else with whom they come in contact.

So serve on. And on. And on.