For several years I have heard people praise Dan Carlin’s podcast Hardcore History. This past week I finally took the opportunity to give Carlin a shot. Not knowing if it was my cup of tea or not, I decided to jump all in with a six-hour episode on nuclear weapons. (Might as well go big.) Yes, everyone was correct. It is an excellent podcast. Not only that, but about an hour and a half into the program, I realized something. The entire podcast series, which is available for purchase, would make an excellent Christmas gift for my father-in-law, Clifford Hewitt. Cliff was fascinated with history, not just the facts but also the philosophical ramifications over why something happened and how would history have changed if things went differently. That was exactly the type of discussion that made this particular episode of Hardcore History (as well as the rest, I presume) so compelling.

He will never receive this gift.

He passed away in February of 2014.

While I only met Cliff about twelve years ago, I soon came to learn that he was an interesting and incredible person. He loved God and was very involved in church. In his younger years, he created and directed a coffee house where fellow Christians could meet and discuss various topics. Cliff was married to Sarah, Deborah’s mother, for over 50 years and was not afraid to express his love publicly. Together they founded a Christian counseling center that is still in operation today. Cliff even stood up for black civil rights at a time when doing so meant putting your life on the line. While Cliff had many admirable traits, my wife will also let you know that he was not always a saint. Like all of us, he had his flaws, such as an ornery side that would arise, especially when things weren’t going in the manner he wished. The one attribute of Cliff’s, however, that everyone would agree was his greatest was his gift for conversation.

While Deborah and I were dating, Cliff made it clear that at some time he wanted to sit down with me and have a lengthy chat so we could get to know each other. It was some time before this chat happened. In fact, Deborah and I had been married for a few years before this talk occurred. During one visit to Deb’s home, both she and her mom had plans which left Cliff and me home for the evening. A great opportunity to talk. Being an introvert, I was a bit nervous. I wasn’t the greatest conversationalist and I had no idea what was on the agenda. I mean, both of us had talked many times over the years during family conversations. We weren’t strangers. So what was so profound it required a private meeting?

“Let me tell you some things about myself,” Cliff began. “I like solid colors. I like primary colors. I’m not a big fan of plaid. In particular, I like red.”

None of this was a shock, as most of the time I was with him he was wearing a solid red shirt. But that’s the point. The content of the conversation was nowheres near as important as the fact that a conversation was taking place. Cliff wanted to share his life with you while, in turn, learning about yours. He wanted you to know that what you had to say was important. If in the process you walked away knowing a bit more about him, well that was a bonus. It was very reminiscent of Jesus’ mode of operation. He liked to talk to the people around him and hear their stories. He wanted them to know their stories were important. In return, he told them his stories . . . stories that would be important to them.

If you spent any time with Cliff, you would often hear the same lengthy tales over and over again. There were times you wanted to interrupt and say, “We’ve already heard this.” (Once or twice I actually did.) However, out of respect, we let him finish and sometimes would learn a new bit of information. If nothing else, Cliff’s stories were insightful, colorful, and often nothing short of epic.

Holden Beach, NC was a favorite family vacation spot, and the Hewitts would often rent a beach house and spend a week there in the summer. Cliff liked to drive to the local shops and strike up conversations. One year, while buying a newspaper, he had a lengthy discussion with the salesgirl. The following year he returned to the same shop. As it so happened, the same salesclerk was on duty and she remembered him by name. Now that’s making an impression!

Earlier I briefly mentioned Cliff’s flaws. One area in which he was certainly flawed was his health. He had diabetes, cancer, a pacemaker, and what seemed like about sixty-four other issues he struggled with, several of which the doctors never fully understood. Some skeptics might look at this and question why, if there was a God, would He allow Cliff to suffer so much. Cliff would probably say those skeptics are failing to see the opportunities that came about as a result of his health issues. He met many doctors, nurses, patients, and others through clinic visits and trips to the pharmacy. For someone who loved to talk as much as my father-in-law, the more people the better. Later in life when his health made it impossible for him to work in a conventional sense, he would instead spend time at his favorite hang out, the local Dunkin’ Donuts, and chat with the customers. Several lifelong friendships grew out of those chats. Cliff was not a “preachy” sort of man, but God was often present in his conversations. In this way, he touched many lives.

Unfortunately, in the months leading up to his passing, Cliff’s memory failed quickly. At times he would have difficulty remembering conversations that took place earlier that day. Other times he would suddenly announce he was ready to leave even though no one had planned a trip. Some of the worst moments were when he would insist that someone was trying to do him wrong when that obviously wasn’t the case. (Remember that ornery streak I spoke about?) While this was hard on everyone, I felt especially uncomfortable during that time. While on paper I understood what was going on, my head couldn’t wrap itself around the concept that someone could not comprehend what was real, even when it was explained to them. I didn’t know how to deal with that and I easily grew frustrated, sometimes to the point that I would vocalize my irritation and storm out of the room. Not some of my finer moments, to be sure.

One of the final memories of Clifford’s life was related to us by Deborah’s mom. In the moments before he passed, while he was lying in his bed, a confused look came over Cliff’s face as he seemingly stared out into nothing. A brief moment later his face relaxed and turned into an expression of peace. I believe that Cliff had witnessed the room suddenly transforming into a vision of Heaven, an event that initially caused some confusion. That confusion, however, turned to peace once he recognized Jesus who was coming to take him home.

So what’s the point of this article? To tell you the truth, I really don’t know. God laid it on my heart, so I wrote it. I could say something like, “Appreciate those you love while you can,” but I’m not about to reduce Clifford Hewitt’s life to a cliche. Everyone reading this might take away something different. I know, as someone who tends to avoid people, I could learn a lot from Cliff if I would just care enough to apply what he demonstrated. Maybe someday I can tell someone what clothes I prefer to wear while also making them feel like what they have to say is important.

In the meantime, if you find that perfect gift for someone and it is within your means to give it to them, do not hesitate. Not because you may not get the chance in the future. Do it because the “perfect gift” doesn’t come along every day. You will make the recipient extremely happy and you will feel really good having given it.