IN MEMORY
by Charles Bowie
On August 24, 2015, I participated in a memorial for Quentin Holt. He was my friend, little brother, and my barber.
This reflection reminds me of how process theology has provided me with a framework for making some sense of living in the world; some sense of the loss of loved ones. As I reflect on his life one thing that comforts me is that while he faced battles that he can only describe, he continued to live in spite of his individual battles.
Quentin Holt had a big heart. He had two heart transplants since thirteen months old. He was a miracle child amongst us who lived with “aims” in mind. I remember a conversation I had with him as we walked across the campus of Vanderbilt University for an appointment he had at the Children’s Hospital. At the time I was working as an Adviser to Freshman and Sophomore students in the Commons and young Quentin asked me, “what do you do here Mr. Charles?” I responded, “I’m an Adviser. I help freshmen and sophomore students find their vision.”
I then asked him, so what do you want to do when you grow up? Quentin responded quickly and with certainty, I want to attend Barber College and I want to get married. A few years later, Quentin did attend Barber College and I became one of his clients. It was a celebratory moment, witnessing the human spirit continue to move and achieve “aims” in the face of conditions that could easily create a sense of despair and hopelessness.
Shortly thereafter I remember getting a call requesting the presence of family and friends at Vanderbilt Children’s hospital for the wedding ceremony of Quentin Holt and his high school sweetheart Narkita Dobson. Quentin became a husband and eventually a father to two beautiful children (Christian and Charli, the youngest who passed a couple of weeks prior to Quentin) before his time with us expired.
Quentin’s life stands in memory as one that was in line with “divine aims.” Through “divine aims” Quentin overcame obstacles and beat the odds. Divine aims led Quentin to achieve things that may have appeared impossible for an onlooker. His life speaks to me today and says regardless of where we are in life; whatever are the conditions that make up “our worlds” in “this” moment, there is empathy for us and there are directives/aims there to guide us to moments of actualization. I am truly grateful to have experienced life with the young man I referred to as little Q.
