To the editor:
It is devastating to lose a friend. Whether it is an acquaintance, a close friend or a neighbor, maybe all three rolled into one, it is still a tremendous shock. Sometimes it is so heart wrenching that one is unable to put it in words, while with others you feel compelled to put down the thoughts, the remembrances, and the humor you’ve shared. The cliché ‘time heals’ is basically true, but we never forget that revered person’s presence in our lives. As time goes by one remembers the time spent with that person and after that shocking hurt subsides we tend to remember the laughs, the jokes, the revelations we shared and we always remember the goodness of that person. Ted Jackson wasn’t a Pulitzer Prize winner; he didn’t invent a cure for disease but left his mark in many other ways. Another cliché comes to mind; ‘Don’t judge a person until you have walked a mile in his shoes’. Ted walked in his own shoes, albeit with artificial legs.
When Ted under went surgery on his leg the first time, he did it with strength, dignity and faith. He immediately got prosthesis and went on about his everyday life without anger, resentment or pity for himself. He continued to shop, for others, take them to medical appointments and to brush snow off cars and move them so the plowman could do his job. Ted always joked that he had keys to many cars and he could take his pick. Always making jokes, never talking about his disability because he didn’t see it that way. He was always thankful for what he had and for what he was still able to do.
One day in early fall he and I were talking about snow removal in the upcoming year when he casually made the comment that the very next day he was to have surgery on his other foot but he was sure he would be healed enough to enable him to continue to do his regular duties! The surgery did not go as intended. The foot was removed; gangrene set in so more of the leg was removed. When that didn’t work they had to remove the entire leg up to the knee. As soon as it was healed he was fitted for his second prosthesis and continued his regular duties of helping people. He continued to pick up medications, shop for groceries, taking people to church, counseled those who had somewhat the same surgery, telling them, and showing them what was possible. It was hard to feel sorry for ones self when you could look out your window and watch Ted as he mowed lawns and planted his little garden. Looking ahead to the time when it would be hard to do all of the bending required to plant the little seeds in his small garden plot he reconstructed a chair for that purpose. Cutting the legs off the chair making it closer to the ground with a rocker effect, enabling him to sit while planting. This garden was not planted for himself but for neighbors and friends who loved fresh vegetables.
In the summer when it was harder for him to plant real flowers around the trees in front of our apartments for our enjoyment he started planting artificial flowers so he wouldn’t have to weed them so often, he joked. Ted enjoyed life as it came to him. His church was a very important part of his life. Only severe illness would keep him home and I only remember that happening a couple of times. His little blue car could be seen leaving to pick up a fellow churchman every Sunday morning, rain, sleet or snow he attended church. He never wavered in what he felt were his responsibilities.
Often on Saturday afternoons in the summer he would host a barbeque outside his home. Neighbors and friends would be invited with Ted as chief cook. His grill would be set up and he would sit in his shortened chair in front of the grill while he served each person. He loved hosting in the open air with friends.
In his garden, next to his sturdy tomato plants, he had a hearty patch of rhubarb. With this rhubarb he would make jam, sometimes it would be strawberry-rhubarb; other times it would be straight rhubarb. He then shared the jam — this labor of love — with his friends.
Ted loved Subway sandwiches. He went almost every day to pick up his favorite foot-long sandwich, having half for lunch and the rest for dinner that night. He was ever conscious of eating healthy food and believed his turkey sandwich with vegetables gave him the required daily healthy food!
Each afternoon he would remove his prosthesis to give his legs a rest while watching ball games on television, he loved sports. Sometimes he would listen to the Old Testament on cassette while resting. He exercised every day to maintain his upper body strength. His apartment was on the second floor and he would carry five gallon bottles of water up the stairs by himself, he never asked for help.
Ted was a snappy dresser and to see him dressed for church, walking to his car, one would never believe he walked on artificial legs.
Two days before his passing, while visiting with me, the talk came around to one’s final demise and he shared his wishes for that ending. He then shared with me, jokingly, that he had told his granddaughter to hope he would pass away at the end of the month so she would get his last Social Security check! Always joking, that was Ted. We never dreamed that the end would come so soon and suddenly.
It is my belief that one’s passing should not go unnoticed. A simple obituary in the local paper seldom tells the whole story of the attributes and the worthiness of a person.
Walking tall, with a smile, a handshake and a hearty hello for everyone he met. That is the way I will remember Ted Jackson.
Hazel Cameron
Presque Isle
