Special memories

Special memories

Dear Editor

and Readers,

Thank you for sharing just a little of my memories of my beautiful stepson who was buried this week.

When Gaylord and I were first married, we went to Bethphage so that I might meet Kenny.

Some people might see a weird-o, retard-o or many other cruel names for people who are different.

They eyes are the windows to the soul, and as I looked into Kenny's beautiful blue eyes, I saw a beautiful young man who had been created by God in His very own image, and I clearly saw the love of Jesus in his eyes.

Although he had never walked or talked in his 43 years, and he had no teeth, to really know him was to love him.

This was clearly echoed by the staff of Bethphage, who loved and cared for him in such a wonderful way. I knew that day that it was my God-given job to give this boy all the love and joy possible. His dad and I went to see him once a month until God called Gaylord home 16 months later.

Let me share just one special memory of the many that I have of that time. We always took candy to Kenny, and because of no teeth, it had to be broken into small pieces. It was my job to feed Kenny the candy, and dad's job to wash his hands and face, much to Kenny's dismay.

However, he quickly caught on to the game, and would put his candy in his mouth, and then promptly hand his hands over to Mr. Clean to be washed, because he knew that as soon as that ordeal was over, Mom Ardess would give him more candy.

Oh, what fun when I fed him the cherry chocolate that he loved so much. Dad loved to feed him jelly beans -- pretty red, pink and yellow, and then he would slip him a green one, which Kenny hated. The only person who I know that could make a worse face than Gaylord was Kenny, and he would spit that green jelly bean right back in his dad's face. Guess who needed the wash cloth then?

After Gaylord's death, I continued to go down to Axtell once a month and change all the decorations in his room, and of course, bring along the candy. Very soon, one of my best friends, Mae, joined me and Kenny bonded with her too. Just one precious memory to share with about this time. Mae was on the second step of our little step stool and I could see that she was going to miss the bottom step. I quickly tried to hold her so she wouldn't fall, and we both fell across Kenny's bed. I quickly looked across the room to see Kenny's reaction. My little pill was laughing his head off and clapping for all he was worth, as if to say, "Doe it again, Mom."

The last day that I had with Kenny before he became ill was his birthday, with the usual gifts and ice cream and cake. I think at that point his favorite gift was the large soap bubble ring that Mae had given him. I fed him his cake and ice cream and he got the giggles. You would have, too, if you had watched my big mouth open every time I wanted to give him a bite.

The last gift we gave him was his Elvis CD. Talk about coming to life; every muscle in his body was keeping time to his favorite music. He held his hands out to me to dance him (I have never danced with anyone buy me beloved Kenny) but we danced together, in spite of all the laughter of the other people in the room.

When the dance was over, I got my hug around my neck, and he got his kiss on the top of his head. When it was time for Mae and I to go home, he was still busy keeping time to the music, and I just gave him a hug on the back of his neck and a kiss on his head. I told him I loved him and that I would see him later. I will see him later and have an eternity to worship our God with him. I thank God for creating him just as he was, for he touched so many people for the Lord.

Love you son and I'll see you later.

Step Mom

Ardess Cappel,

McCook