In Memoriam

As some of you may know, Henry was named for three men.  Primarily, he was named for Sloan's paternal grandfather, Henry Phillips.  But secondarily, he was named for my friend Sarah's dad, Henry Levinson, and a seminary professor, Henry Simmons.  On Monday, January 4, in the evening, my friend Sarah's dad died. 

So why did I love Dr. Levinson so much? 

Perhaps it is because he was diagnosed with MS shortly after my brother.  It was the late eighties, no one knew much about the disease, and suddenly Sarah's family and mine had something in common.  Not as cool as sharing a vacation home, mind you, but something that we have consistently asked about over the past two decades. 

Perhaps it was the fact that Dr. Levinson was a college professor, thereby giving him the freedom to always be around.  Sarah's house was the fun house in high school.  Okay, let me be a little more clear about that.  We took advantage of the fact that Dr. Levinson was always around so we never had to lie to our parents when they asked if someone's parents would be home.  We just failed to mention that Dr. Levinson was unable to go up the stairs.  Yes, we were that horrible.  We partied upstairs while Dr. Levinson and his cane stayed downstairs.  I used to feel horribly guilty about this.  But seeing as he was a college professor and all, I dare say the man was not an idiot and knew what was going on with all those giggling girls upstairs.  Besides, at some point, he had to realize that the Vodka in the liquor cabinet was being refilled with water.

Perhaps it was the fact that Dr. Levinson was one of the few men I knew that adored his wife. My parents are grotesquely handsy with one another.  Still.  After 46 years.  And the Levinsons, not unlike my parents, were obviously head over heels in love with one another.  Even as teenager, I knew this was rare.  I don't think there has even been a woman alive who wouldn't want to be looked at the way Dr. Levinson looked at Mrs. Levinson.

But I think, maybe most of all, my love for Dr. Levinson began in the first grade.  It was Sarah's birthday party, back at their old house off of Church Street.  We'd just broken the pinata and suddenly, out of nowhere, I heard something.  It was an unfamiliar ring-a-ding-ding.  What could that be coming up the driveway?  That's right, folks, Dr. Levinson introduced me to the Ice Cream Truck.  Do I need to remind you how I feel about Ice Cream Trucks?  I think they're freakin' awesome: a modern day sign that God is at work in the world.  And truth be told, this would be the ONLY time in my entire childhood that I would get to purchase Ice Cream from an Ice Cream truck.  So not only is it my favorite memory of Dr. Henry Levinson, it has simply become a favorite memory from my childhood.

So it was with a broken heart that we trodded back down to Greensboro on Monday.  And with heavy arms that I hugged my dear friend Sarah.  I thought my high school buddies and I were in the Baby Shower stage of life.  This stage, the burying of parents, came too quickly and quite frankly, I don't think I have the stomach for it.

Please pray for the Levinson family.  Please also pray that my Henry loves to laugh, learn, and kiss his wife the way Henry Levinson did.