Eulogy for Anna Lou McKinney
On May 19, 1996, my first full day as the youth minister for the Main Street church, Bob and Ann McKinney hosted a get-together for the entire church to welcome me. Howard Justice told me that I’d never learn where the McKinney’s live, so he’d better take me. Howard Justice was a man of faith, but on that score, he was dead wrong—I quickly learned where the McKinney’s lived.
And it wasn’t terribly long before I asked Bob and Ann if they’d object to my marrying their daughter. As you might imagine, Bob gently said he’d support the marriage; Ann also said she’d support it, but she had a few more opinions to express than Bob did.
But I will tell you that Ann accepted me as her own from that very moment, and she made that abundantly clear the first Christmas I spent at their home. Three weeks or so before that Christmas, I participated in a funeral. I don’t remember whom we buried that day, but I remember that it was brutally cold. As I stood on that hill with the wind whipping around me in just a suit, I noticed that a lot of men were dressed in nice overcoats. And I mentioned to Tammy that I’d really like to have a nice overcoat. Unbeknownst to me, Tam told her mom, and Ann spent an entire day in Lexington going from store to store until she found just the right coat. Under the tree that Christmas Eve, I opened the nicest coat I’ve ever owned in all my life. That simple act told me precisely how Bob and Ann valued me.
Before Tammy and I married, Bob and Ann took Tammy and me to Cincinnati to look for wedding supplies. The next morning, Ann embarrassed me to death—as we left the hotel, I looked over and Ann was wearing her curlers out in public! I suppose that since we were in—what I then considered a big city—Ann enjoyed the anonymity of looking like she just rolled out of bed.
Around that time, the Main Street youth group chartered a bus and went to King’s Island. Ann went with Tammy and me. She told us two lovebirds to go and enjoy ourselves. It didn’t take much to convince us, but when it was about time to leave, Tam and I started looking for her mom. We finally found her—asleep on a bench with her purse under her head as a pillow.
When Tammy was expecting RJ, I graduated from Southern Christian University with my first master’s degree. Bob and Ann drove to Montgomery, Alabama, to attend my graduation; the next morning, they took Tammy and me to Cracker Barrel for breakfast. I’ve always loved the apple butter from Cracker Barrel, and I quickly learned Bob and Ann did, too. Bob would ask for a bowl of apple butter, our waitress would bring it, two minutes later we’d have that bowl empty, and Bob would ask for another bowl. Our waitress ran her legs off bringing apple butter to our table. And the more Bob asked for apple butter, the more embarrassed Ann grew. Finally, in exasperation, Ann blurted out, “Bob, you’re embarrassing me to death.” But would you like to guess who ate more apple butter than anyone else at our table combined? Yep, Ann McKinney.
Ann fiercely loved being Grammy. When RJ was born, I had never really been around babies, and I knew very little about babies. I didn’t even know how to change a diaper. But Ann came and stayed with us for several weeks, and on the front pew of the church building in Owingsville, Kentucky, Grammy taught me how to change a diaper.
I’m surprised Ann taught me how to change a diaper, because anything the least bit personal embarrassed her to death. We knew immediately if we had crossed a line because Ann would simply ask, “Do you think it’ll rain?” Now, if we didn’t hush and we kept down that line of discussion, she’d walk over to the window, look toward the sky, and say, “Think it’ll hail?”
Yet, Grammy had a major think-it’ll-hail moment herself a few years ago. GranGran had horrible bedsores on his backside, and Ann had taken some pictures to send the doctor. However, instead of sending them to the doctor, Ann posted a picture of Bob’s bare backside as her Facebook cover photo. Within seconds of Ann’s posting that picture, Robbie’s phone began blowing up with calls and texts telling him to help Grammy get rid of those pictures.
Ann loved her family, and she was more than happy to serve her family. Ann received a phone call saying that RJ had been arrested and only prepaid VISA cards could pay his bail. Ann loaded Bob in the car and drove to Walmart here in Pikeville, but they refused to sell her $5,000 in gift cards. So, Bob and Ann got back in the car and headed to Lexington to try again. She happened to call Robbie on her way to Lexington so he wouldn’t worry she wasn’t home. That phone call and Rob’s quick thinking prevented Ann’s being scammed.
Being a son-in-law who lives over 1,000 miles away gave me a unique perspective on Ann’s love for her family. You see, Tammy would FaceTime her mother, and, not only would I listen to the conversation, but I had to interject myself and poke at Ann every opportunity I could. But having heard those conversations, I know with all my heart—as much as I know she’s in the Bosom of Abraham—that Ann loved this family: I know how proud she was of Robbie; I know how much she loved Cheryl for all Cheryl did for her; I know how pleased she was that Tammy had followed in her footsteps as an educator; I know how pleased she was that I preach the truth of Jesus; I know how she loved watching Bobby become a father; I know how she welcomed Christa into our family; I know how she loved Chelsea, her only granddaughter; I know she loved seeing RJ’s caring heart as he helped take care of GranGran; I know she loved her Fridays with Wilson; I know how she loved cheering Hunter and Colton as they played ball; I know how proud she was of Braxton’s talented work as our little artist; and I know how she anticipated Cade’s running into her arms. Further, I know how much she loved hearing her great-grandsons lead prayer in anticipation of the godly men they will become.
As much as she loved this family, she loved her Lord more. Ann would have had it no other way, and Jesus expected nothing less. And because she could cook so well, the elders at Main Street put Ann in charge of the food trains. If someone was in the hospital or a family had experienced loss, Ann took care of organizing the ladies to prepare food. Jesus came to be a servant, he left Ann an example, and she was a servant. May we follow her example and be servants, too.