Robertson McQuilkin

After twenty-two years as President at Columbia International University he made the decision to resign. Some of the Board members said, "You shouldn't do it. You were called to lead this school. You made a promise to lead this school." Here is the letter he wrote:
"Twenty-two years is a long time, but then again, it can be shorter than one anticipates. How do you say goodbye to friends you don't wish to leave? The decision to come to Columbia was the most difficult I had to make. The decision to leave twenty-two years later, though painful, was one of the easiest. It was almost as if God engineered the circumstances so that I had no alternatives. Let me explain. My dear wife, Muriel, has been in failing mental health for about twelve years. So far I have been able to carry both her ever growing needs and my leadership responsibility at Columbia. But recently it has become apparent that Muriel is contented most of the time when she is with me, and almost none of the time when I am away from her. It is not just discontent, she is filled with fear, even terror that she has lost me, and always goes in search of me when I leave home. So it is clear to me that she needs me now, full time. Perhaps it will help you understand if I share with you what I shared in Chapel at the time of the announcement of my resignation.

The decision was made in a way forty-two years ago when I promised Muriel to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, till death us do part. But there is more. She has cared for me fully and sacrificially for all these years. If I care for her for the next forty years, I would not be out of her debt. Duty, however, can be grim and stoic. There is more - I love Muriel. She is a delight to me. I don't have to care for her - I get to. It is a high honor to care for so wonderful a person."
That was his letter. He got an outpouring of love and many people were thinking that he was remarkable. He said, "It is more than keeping promises and being fair. I watch her brave descent into oblivion - by the way, she can't talk, and occasionally she smiles." Do you know what he does when she smiles? He raises his flag to full mast. When she doesn't smile, he keeps it down. So when you are driving through Columbia, South Carolina, and go by Robertson McQuilkin's house, and the flag is up, you know she smiled at him that day. "She is the joy of my life. Daily I discern new manifestations of the kind of person she is, the wife I always loved."