How Our Lady of Guadalupe, St. Raphael, and a Necktie Brought Me My One, True Love

Gretchen remained in ICU until Tuesday of the week following her operation. Her sister Cathy came almost every day to stay with her, and on those days when Cathy couldn’t make it, her sister Carrie came and sat with Gretchen. I came and stayed with her each night so that between the three of us, Gretchen had round-the-clock family presence to help ease her fears. She was in great pain almost all of the time and there were more tubes and electronic leads and monitors and other paraphernalia attached to her than tentacles at an octopus family reunion! All through her suffering in the hospital, I was amazed at what a real lady (in the true sense of the word) she was; each time her nurse came in (and they came in often) to draw blood or disturb her or give her medications, etc.., all of which caused her pain, she very politely thanked them in her weak voice. There wasn’t much any of us could do to ease her pain except offer words of hope for a quick recovery. She used to like it when I stroked her hair at home when she was overly worried about something or just at the end of the day before drifting off to sleep, and so I stood by her bedside and stroked her hair lightly to reassure her of my presence and to comfort her in ever so small a way. The nights were long and sometimes because of the pain she would want to sit up for a moment and then, not knowing what to do with herself, she would lie back down again. Her sleep was always somewhat fitful and my vigil by her side was solemn and meditative, but full of hope for a complete recovery.

Occasionally, I caught some sleep, but usually only for a brief moment during those nights. When Cathy, or Carrie came in the morning, I would go home and take a long nap during the day, so that I could return that evening and relieve them and spend the night with her. The view outside of her hospital room, which was on the University campus, had a very European look to it, with a sort of bell tower and peaked rooftops like you might see in Germany or France. One night, it snowed, and the rooftops all freshly covered in a white mantle made me think about taking her to Europe again when she was well.

She always wanted to go back to Europe one more time and show Margaret the beauty of Germany, France and Italy, but her health would never have allowed it; now maybe we could make a trip with our daughter...

When I came to the hospital on Tuesday evening of the week following her operation, at around 6:00, I was glad to find that Gretchen had finally been moved out of ICU and up into a room on the transplant recovery floor. My sister-inlaw, Carol Matt, came to visit and offer her encouragement and assurance of her prayers. She brought Gretchen a colorful balloon with flowers on it, as Gretchen was still not allowed to have real flowers.

In fact, a few days before her operation, at one of the many pre-transplant meetings, Gretchen had been heartbroken to learn that her gardening days were over.

Because of her post-operation, antirejection drugs, her risk of contracting an infection from various viruses and bacteria in the soil was too great and so gardening was off limits! I assured her that I would weed her gardens, etc. or hire someone to do it, as her flower gardens were a great source of joy in her life. (Everyone knows that, other than maybe chocolate, nothing can possibly compete more than flowers for that special place in a woman’s heart!

Flowers and women are, somehow, two sides of the same coin, and no other part of creation is as uniquely feminine as flowers – not butterflies, or delicate snowflakes, or silvery moonlight, or whatever else you might imagine – nothing mirrors feminine beauty more than flowers!) Not being able to garden was going to be a tremendous cross for her, but she was willing to give it up for Margaret’s and my sake if that was what it took to live a longer life together!

God’s Will is not our will! He cannot be understood by our poor human intellects, however intelligent, wise or holy we may be. It would be far easier for an ant (either before or after being stepped on for that matter) to understand a treatise on stellar physics in Sanskrit than for our unaided intellect to grasp the Infinite Wisdom of God while still here in this veil of tears. In Heaven, it will be another matter, as the Beatific Vision will provide the grace of complete understanding, but while here on Earth, we have to be satisfied with the limited understanding and assurance our faith provides. So be the Will of the Creator! I know this much, though, of God’s Love; namely, that if any one of us were His sole human creation, He would have still made the vast universe with all of its beauty and splendor, all of the stars and galaxies, the sun and moon, oceans and mountains, all of the diversity of life we see around us, all of the world we know..., all of this, out of Love for just you or me alone! We all already know this truth in our hearts for, after all, He did exactly this for Adam, who was His sole human creation! (And aren’t we all Adam’s heirs?) But then Divine, Infinite Love outdid, Himself, so to speak, and created Eve, in all her mystery and beauty, from Adam’s rib... Who can fathom it!

Yet think of it, each marriage, in some wonderful, mysterious way harkens back, all the way down through the ages, through all these long millenniums, back to Adam and Eve themselves, back to the very beginning of God’s Plan! What a mystery! And this aspect of marriage, wondrous as it is, is only on the natural plane; after Christ, marriage took on the even greater living, breathing, sacrificial symbol of Christ’s love for His Church!

This is why marriage is now indissoluble – (before Christ, I would argue that marriage existed only on a natural level and that that is why the Jews were allowed to divorce in the Old Testament; for God would never have allowed this if it were something intrinsically evil! It is true, that Christ says in the Gospel, "that it wasn’t so from the beginning", but that is because He was God, and knew of His Own plan to establish marriage as a sacrament when He became man) – however, when Christ actually, finally came, He, Himself conferred upon marriage the sacramental symbol of His eternal love for His Bride, the Church (and Christ will never leave His Bride) – and so the living, breathing, sacramental symbol of His Love for the Church, namely marriage, is now, itself, also something indissoluble! Please forgive my digression here, I really shouldn’t wax theological, especially since I am not a theologian, but having lived a marriage commitment, and now being a widower, brings the wondrous mystery and sacramental privilege of marriage into keen focus! Death for me is not a parting, it is just an inconvenience, and so I will never take my wedding ring off – it is my privilege to wear it, until the day I die, as a symbol of Christ’s undying love for His Church and mine for my wife! I will only say along with St. Paul, that if you are lucky enough (in reality, blessed enough) to still have your spouse with you, "Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the Church!" Enough said...

Gretchen’s incurable illness was something we simply accepted. Everyone’s life is always in God’s hands and so, in our minds, we really weren’t much different than anyone else. A handicapped person is no less a human being than anyone else, and those hardships, which, so to speak, handicapped our marriage made it no less a true marriage compared to other marriages. And, if I might continue the analogy, most handicapped people I know have truly great souls, full of love for life and a very keen appreciation of each day that is given to them – and those extra hardships we faced in our marriage didn’t clip our wings – far from it – by God’s grace, our love for one another and our realization of what each of us mutually sacrificed for the other, carried us on powerful wings, over many dry, parched deserts and sharp, craggy mountain peaks. One of us always supported the other when things looked dark. I used to feel like I was a failure at times, especially when it was so difficult to land a job that paid a decent wage or even made use of one’s talents and experience (employers will deny it, but there is a very real age discrimination in the workplace!), but she would remind me that she didn’t mind our lack of material things because we had a solid marriage instead, and she was always proud of me, even if after eight years of college I was just bagging someone’s groceries at work; and at other times, when financial or health difficulties got her down, she sometimes would ask me, "What’s to become of us?", and I would simply say, "I love you, and you love me – God will take care of the rest!"

And God always did take care of the rest, but in His Own Infinite Way, which was always the best, even if it didn’t seem so to us. After all, God does know what He is doing. I compose music and often a piece of music will call for a certain dissonant note or chord, which if played on the piano, all by itself, out of the context of the piece of music, would make you cringe and think, "how ugly!", but when it is played in context with the entire piece of music it will often stand out as one of the high points of the piece! We are all part of God’s symphony – the real "Creation Symphony", (apologies to Mr. Haydn) – and some of us have, what may seem like, a more dissonant part to play than others, but in eternity we will hear the whole symphony, complete, and not just the isolated chord that is our own individual life’s story, and then, we’ll not only understand, but truly appreciate the beauty and perfection of God’s Masterpiece and our own small part in it! The American composer, Charles Ives, was fond of quoting his father, who was the local church choir director, and who after hearing a complaint from a parishioner about an off-key-sounding voice in the choir responded, "Don’t pay attention to those notes too closely or you’ll miss the music and the beauty of the Hymn!"

Both Gretchen and Lindsey were finally out of the ICU and into other hospital rooms. In a few days, Lindsey would finally be allowed to go home. Gretchen, was also going home soon, but she was going to her real Home, and leaving us behind.

They had given her some powerful sedatives the night before and she had slept for several hours peacefully. I mistook this, and the fact that they had moved her out of ICU, as a sign that she was finally on the mend. But that last night, she never really slept and was more agitated than she had ever been before. She was in great pain, especially in her abdomen which was looking quite distended. She would sit up and then after only a minute lie back down, all of which required a lot of maneuvering and care as she still had so many tubes, electrical leads and monitors attached to her, in addition to two heavy plastic, "canteens", one on either side of her abdomen, which were collecting abdominal fluids and had to be emptied every few hours. It would take a while to untangle everything and get it all sorted out each time she changed position. She needed to have someone right next to her for support whenever she was sitting up and during one of these episodes, I massaged her spine and rubbed her back.

She always had such soft, wonderfully smooth skin, and she laid her head on my shoulder while I stood holding her on the edge of the bed. It was the last time I was able to hold her close to me and I will never forget the blessing of that moment as long as I live! We had to scoot her up in the bed before she could lie back down and on that occasion she was a little confused about what we were doing and asked, "Where are we going?", and I nodded my head to the right and jokingly replied, "North!" – and she gave me a weak smile.

She suffered so much that night and I was so thankful for her nurse, Lisa, who was the most understanding and compassionate of all the nurses we had encountered at the hospital. She was excellent in every way.

She was probably in her late 30’s or early 40’s, of Asian descent, and very capable and professional, but her bedside manner was bar-none! I believe with all my heart that St. Raphael sent her, or used her, or that Lisa was even St. Raphael, himself, in disguise, there at Gretchen’s hour of need on her last night on earth! I met with Lindsey a few days before Gretchen’s funeral and she gave me a folded note that a nurse had given her to relay to me. It was from Lisa and it was very touching and beautiful. I have included a copy of her note in the appendix, but I wonder who she really is, though – the sentence structure and grammar, the punctuation, the thoughts and sentiment… everything

A Remnant Series in Denfense of Marriage...

about that note is nothing like anything you’d expect from a run-of-the-mill nurse in today’s world… It is true, Lisa certainly wasn’t a run-of-the-mill nurse, but call me crazy, I still think that there is something more here than meets the eye!

Lisa came in the room around 2:00 AM and said that Gretchen’s lactic acid blood level had suddenly passed a critical point and so they wanted an x-ray of her abdomen. About 20 minutes later, a tech with a portable x-ray machine came in and I helped raised Gretchen’s back slightly up off of the bed so that they could slide the x-ray plate under her abdomen. This whole process was very painful for her and she moaned with each movement we made, however so gently we executed it! Lisa continued to care for Gretchen and tried to make her as comfortable as possible, giving her pain medications, blankets, etc. and offering her heartfelt sympathy for her sufferings. I stood at the head of her bed and held her hand and stroked her hair trying to comfort her. About 3:30 AM we heard back from the doctor who had read the x-ray that Gretchen had an ischemia of the small intestine, which means that some of the tissue in the small intestine had been damaged and that necrosis had set in (the tissue had died) and at the same time her blood work showed a serious sepsis infection (blood poisoning). Lisa came back into the room about 10 minutes later and told me that they were going to transfer her back down to the ICU and that her current state was critical.

Gretchen had been becoming noticeably more out-of-it since about 3:00 AM and all at once she looked up and said weakly, "I’m going to die!" There wasn’t fear in her eyes or in her voice, but sorrow, and I said reassuringly, "No you won’t, you’ll be okay." She looked at me for a second and then closed her eyes and went unconscious. It was the last time I saw her beautiful eyes or heard her musical voice!

A very sharp critical care nurse came in a few minutes later and prepared her for the transport back down to the ICU. Her condition was very rapidly deteriorating and I suddenly realized that she might not make it. Gretchen had been an LPN and had seen many deaths during her career and was a good judge of when someone was near death, and her assessment of her own condition now filled my heart with foreboding like the sudden approach of a distant thunderstorm!

Three other nurses came into the room and we rolled Gretchen down to the ICU. By now it was probably about 5:15 AM on Wednesday, April 12th. I tried calling Gretchen’s sister, Carrie, who I thought was coming to the hospital to be with Gretchen that day, to let her know what was happening, but I couldn’t get through to her. In the ICU, they told me that they were going to put Gretchen back on a breathing tube, sedate her and start dialysis to counteract the sepsis. I stood, helplessly off to the side, silently watching them work on my wife, dumbfounded at how quickly everything had changed. I set the little statue of St. Raphael that had accompanied Gretchen throughout her hospital stay on a shelf in the room and prayed quietly to St. Raphael, Our Lady and to God for her. The room was now full of about six or seven doctors and nurses whose demeanor was very serious and who were working very quickly to stabilize her condition. Shortly after this I was asked to wait in the visitor waiting room just across the hall from Gretchen’s room because they needed all of the space they could get. I went over to Gretchen, held her hand, gave her a kiss on her forehead and told her that, "Everything will be okay, they are going to give you dialysis to counteract the sepsis."

I tried to sound reassuring and give her hope, but somehow I knew that her last words were true and that she was going home to God! She was now intubated, heavily sedated and unresponsive, her eyes closed in what appeared to be sleep, and whether she could hear me or not, I told her how much I loved her, squeezed her hand and then let go and went to the waiting room. Sometime later Cathy and Carrie came in and I filled them in on what was happening. Gretchen’s two transplant surgeons came in and told us that she needed an emergency operation to repair her small intestine, but that they couldn’t even risk moving her down to the operating room because her sepsis infection was so critical at the moment; they said that she could die in transit on the elevator on her way down to the operating room! They wondered how much her heart could take and asked us if she had any previous heart conditions, and we told them, "No". They told us that Gretchen would be in the ICU for hours on dialysis to control the sepsis and Cathy and Carrie wanted me to go home and get some sleep (I had been up for almost 24 hours), but I wanted to go home and get Margaret so that she could see Momma, in case she was going to die. At home, Margaret quickly started getting ready to go to the hospital and was just heading into the bathroom when the phone rang and Gretchen’s doctor told me that her heart had stopped and that they were performing CPR. Margaret quickly used the bathroom and got her coat on and we were just about out the door, when a second phone call came in and the doctor informed me that Gretchen had been unresponsive to the CPR for over 15 minutes now and asked if I wanted them to continue to try and revive her, and I told them, "No, my wife made it clear to me that she didn’t want that."

(Gretchen told me before her operation, that if they needed to do CPR and that if she was unresponsive after 15 minutes or so, to please not let them continue any longer!) I thanked her doctor for all that she had done and she told me how sorry she was and hung up the phone. They placed her time of death at 1:40 PM on Wednesday April 12, exactly one week after her transplant operation. Margaret took the news bravely and said that she was so sorry for me and I told her how sorry I was for her. We hugged each other and then went off privately to cry alone and to try and comprehend Momma’s death. (I knew that Margaret was just like me and preferred some space to deal with her loss. We both took comfort in each other, but needed to be alone initially!) I went outside on the porch and cried quietly for a long time. I was utterly exhausted after having been up since about 3:00 the previous afternoon and now emotionally drained as well and Margaret wanted me to take a nap, but I didn’t want to sleep – I didn’t want to lose even one second of my last day with Gretchen – each moment of that day still linked me with her in some spiritual and physical way; she was alive when that day started and we were together; I wanted to consciously live and know each moment of my last day with her – I didn’t want to lose any of it to sleep’s oblivion! I sat on our deck and looked at all of the work we had done together to beautify our yard; her gardens, the high arched trellis I made for her, the bird baths and feeders we had put up, etc., and I saw that the tulips I had planted last Fall for her were just starting to sprout up out of the ground and all at once, I needed to write something to her – something expressing my deep love for her, and over the next hour or so, I worked on the following free verse.

To Gretchen The tulips and the daffodils, I planted last Fall for you, my Love, Had only just pushed their tender leaves into the sun, When you traded earthly dust for Heavenly Splendor.

They slept all Winter, Waiting to show you their delicate glory, Longing for the warmth of your radiant smile.

When they bloom, I will lay them on your grave, So that being close to you, my Love, They may glimpse the gardens of Paradise and blush!

(It was very comforting, gave a voice to my terrible loss and a sense of peace while working on this!) And indeed, on Mother’s Day, after the tulips and the daffodils had finally bloomed, Margaret and I took them to the cemetery and laid them on Gretchen’s and Grandma’s graves!

It has been two months now since Gretchen went home to God and Margaret and I are coping with her loss as best we can. Margaret has crammed a lifetime of love, fun and friendship in with her mother over their short 19 years together; in fact, their relationship is closer than several 60-year-old women I know who still are unable to appreciate or bond with their mothers. Margaret loved Momma more than anything, but she is wise and mature beyond her years – she knows what life is all about and she will survive – her Roman/Irish blood will see to that.

Each day I go to visit Gretchen at the cemetery and sit on the beautiful tombstone/bench marking my motherand- father-in-law’s graves. (Gretchen is literally buried at the feet of their graves.) Each day I give thanks for the wisdom of my mother-in-law for erecting a bench as part of their monument. (Aren’t mothers wonderfully wise and practical!) I bring flowers to Gretchen and say a Rosary there and it is very comforting to me, and I plan on doing so until I am physically incapable of such or, of course, when I am away from home on a trip. Afterwards, I tell her what is going on in Margaret’s life and mine, ask her prayers for us and those for whom I have promised to pray, tell her how much I love and miss her and then say goodbye for the day while standing on what will be my own grave. I really must say, that, far from being morbid, there is something very wonderful and marvelous about standing on your own grave that keeps you very focused on what is really important in life. (And, I have to confess that my Springman blood always gets the better of me, and if anyone asks me how I am, right after my daily visits with my wife, I really can’t resist the temptation and reply, "Pretty good, I think, for someone fresh from his own grave!") When Gretchen and I ran the medical transcription business we started out of our home and were very financially strapped, I found the following quote from, " The Musician’s Tale: The Saga of King Olaf" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and put it above her desk to bolster her spirits and give her encouragement. Now I too take comfort in this quote. (Oh, the things we do which come home to roost!…) The dawn is not distant, Nor is the night starless; Love is eternal!

Angels, are by their very natures, superior to man in every way imaginable… if they can ever be said to envy man, it would be with respect to two things. The first is a woman’s gift of motherhood, of participating directly with God in bringing into this world a living, breathing creature whose end is none other than the Beatific Vision – no angel can do anything like this! And the second is man’s complete and utterly irrevocable gift of love to God of his very existence at the moment of death (his consummatum est!) trusting in His Creator in a way which even the angels must truly marvel at and envy with all their being! Gretchen was incredibly blessed to have given herself to the Love and Mercy of God in both these ways!

The inimitable Mark Twain wrote a humorous bit of prose called, "The Diaries of Adam and Eve", which contains moments of real insight into both the male and the female psyche along with many witty, imaginative incidents in the lives of our first parents. At the end of " Eve’s Diary", Adam, after losing Eve, writes the following beautiful inscription on her grave.

"Wheresoever she was, there was Eden!" I can think of no more apropos inscription expressing what my wife meant to me!

(If Mr. Twain objects to my quoting him without his express permission, he has my full permission to quote any line he wishes from any poem or piece of prose I have ever written, tit for tat, so to speak!) Love is not something which divides you, something which tears you apart like fighting a multi-front war, it is just something multifaceted, yet one, like the diamond in a wedding ring. I have my obligations and I intend to fulfill them to the best of my abilities; I have my promises and I intend to keep them as far as I am able. God will see Margaret, me and all of us through our lives as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow – He will do so, not because He owes us anything, but because He is God and loves each of us more than we can ever fathom!

I long for the day, with all my heart, when all of my obligations and promises have been fulfilled; when my daughter is well established in a happy life, filled with love and unshakable trust in God; when I have accomplished all that God wants of me here on earth and after having fought the good fight, I’m finally allowed to re-climb the winding stair of my dream and, this time, pass that celestial gate and take my true love’s hand again! ■ (Jim Mills - June 21, 2017)