The Wedding Gift

The day of Bettie's memorial service, the family was gathered in a private reception room, off the foyer of Grace Community Church. A few days earlier, I had asked my sons Steve and Jim if they would be willing to present a brief story or memory of Mom during a time of sharing in the service. Now, in turn, I asked them each if they had something prepared. They each assured me that they were ready. I told everyone that I too, had a story but that I didn't know if I would be able to tell it.

Since we had arrived quite early, there was time for me to tell my story to the gathered family, as a sort of "trial run". My apprehension was allayed as I got into it. "Ah, good", I said to myself, "it looks like I can get through this without choking up." I even had a prop, sort of a show and tell.

I had asked Art Palecek, the Associate Pastor to lead the sharing time and gave him the names of a few people I had asked to be prepared, Steve and Jim among them. He was to conclude with me. I would tell my little story and then introduce my chorus for the closing songs.

However, by the time the microphone was in my hand, I realized that we were running a little long and I much preferred "leaving them wanting more", as they say, rather than less. I didn't tell the story...so here it is:

On our wedding day, beside my dashing fly-boy good looks :) , blue uniform with wings and gold stripes, I gave my bride a real gift: a gold charm bracelet. It has interlocking links with four pearls interspersed along its length. There were four heart-shaped charms adorning it on that happy occasion, each one with an inscription: "We met, May 16, 1958"; "First date, July 10, 1958"; "Engaged, October 22, 1958"; "Wedding Day, May 16, 1959". (I soon gathered that she rather liked it.)

Over the years, it spent most of its life in the jewelery drawer, but put in an occasional appearance at anniversaries and other special occasions. Of course charms were added for each of our children's birthdates, and later for grand-children. At 25 years, a silver heart appeared.

A few weeks before our 50th, I rummaged through the lesser items in the drawer, finally finding the bracelet in its own special box. I left the box, but removed the bracelet for its periodic trek to the jeweler for its (now we know) final charm: "May 16, 2009: Fifty Years of True Love".

With our anniversary party scheduled for Sunday the 17th, I made reservations for a view table at Palisade Restaurant on the water in Seattle for Saturday evening, the exact time we were married. I thought about just letting her wear the bracelet and then pointing out the new charm during dinner. This would of course assume that she would remember to wear the bracelet and that she would not notice the new charm on her own. Rather than risk it, I simply put the bracelet, box and all, in my pocket while she was doing her hair. She didn't seem to miss it, so I was home free.

At Palisade, I managed a hushed conspiracy with the maitre'd before being shown to our table. Soon our bright young waiter appeared with the customary flair.

At that point I exclaimed to Bettie "Oh Honey, look, we forgot your bracelet. Your charm bracelet."

She started to mumble something like "It wasn't there ... " but didn't get it out before I interrupted.

I turned to the waiter and said: "We forgot my wife's special occasion bracelet... I don't suppose you have something like, oh I don't know, a house bracelet or something?"

"Why yes sir. Actually we do." and with that he pulled her bracelet box from his apron and presented it to Bettie.

She was delighted, and pleasantly "surprised".

I thought we -- me and our waiter -- had really pulled off a great little show with a surprise ending.

I put 'surprised' in quotes, because I later asked her if it actually was a surprise. "Not exactly" she tactfully broke it to me.

"You may not remember, but a couple of weeks ago I forgot to put a spoon in your lunch." (On days I go into the office, I would leave before she was awake, so she fixed my lunch the evening before).

She continued: "So rather than go back down to the kitchen, and because you were already asleep, I just put a note in your pocket to remind you to put a spoon in your lunch."

I shook my head: "And that just happened to be the day that I had put your bracelet in that same pocket to take to the jeweler?"

"The very same," she grinned. "But it's OK, this was fun, and it will make a great story."

Indeed.

Their Graves Were Side by Side

Shortly after composing "The Next to the Last Chapter" in this blog, I contacted the funeral director I had chosen. I think the second question they asked me was "Are you a veteran?" I recounted my military service to them and they suggested that I bring in my military separation papers. They wanted to see if I qualified for husband and wife burial in Tahoma National Cemetery.

My military service consisted of an 8- year enlistment in the Washington Air National Guard, beginning in July of 1954. As it turned out, after four and-a-half years of that enlistment, I was flying with Northwest Airlines and that qualified me for an occupational deferment.

I spent the final three and-a-half years of my enlistment in the inactive Air Force Reserve. During that time, a lot of my flying was cargo and personnel on military charter flights. I had no actual "active duty" in any branch of the military. But the funeral director said, "The rules are changing all the time, and we'll just check and see if you qualify."

But unfortunately, the military does not make a determination until after the death occurs.

Well, we waited and waited and waited. Finally, just last Thursday I got the call from the military people in St. Louis: Permission denied because there was no active duty. Of course I knew that all along, but that wasn't the question they asked.

So I purchased side-by-side plots at Hillcrest Burial Park in Kent, just three miles from our home. By then, the soonest we could schedule burial was Tuesday, January 19th at 11:00 a.m. ...that was today.

The clouds held back their tears for our brief graveside service. The rest of us, not so much.

Our pastors from El Shaddai Ministries, Mark Biltz and Art Palecek, were on hand to conduct a brief and dignified tribute to our dear Bettie.

It was just the immediate family...and it was sad, very, very sad.

What else can I say.

While the memorial service on January 8th had its sad elements too, it also celebrated a life and was filled with supportive friends and comforting words. And there was the wonderful music, to cap it all off.

Today, there was no celebration.

But there was the lingering lyrics of the song my Northwest Sound chorus brothers had so artistically performed that day:

" ... then one day they died,

and their graves were side-by-side,

on a hill where robins sing

and they say violets grow there

the whole year round,

for their hearts were full of spring

in Love ... in Spring."

The Memorial

Even the heavens were crying as we slogged through a soaking rain into Grace Community Church, just before 3 p.m. on Friday, January 8th. Once inside though, things seemed to brighten. With Bettie's life as the central theme, gloominess simply could not prevail.

As I mentioned in The Next to the Last Chapter, plans for this service began a couple of weeks before...well let's just leave it at that. The hospice nurse had ventured that Bettie would probably not even make it to January. (That apparently needled Bettie just a little.) Though I had not written anything down, I had talked with our family about my ideas and what I knew of Bettie's desires.

With all of that in mind, I spent an entire day preparing what I thought should be in the program. (I'm still not sure what to call the printed hand-out. I guess program is as good as anything. Note: A copy of that "program" in pdf format is now posted just to the right of this text.) In all of the preparations, my underlying concept was a service that was befitting the woman we were remembering. It had to be classy, honoring, uplifting, and ministering, all at the same time. I wanted emotions to be free to flow, but not to become overly maudlin.

Over the next two weeks, things began to come together. I got editorial suggestions from the family and my pastor and his associate. Veronica and her sister Vicky began to comb through boxes of photos as they crafted a media presentation to highlight this extraordinary life. My chorus began to review a song that I had picked from last year's repertoire, because of its particularly suitable theme. I visited with Shelly Larson at Grace Community Church, who handled all the facility details flawlessly.

By that dreary Friday afternoon, though my obsessiveness over being on time had gotten us there 45 minutes early, there was little for the family to do. Flowers had arrived, the chorus was downstairs warming up, Jordan was tending to the guest book, and guests were arriving. We sat in a private reception room, nervously doing our best to ignore the reality in which we were immersed.

The chapel at Grace comfortably seats 150. Quite a few extra chairs were brought in, but, though rather full, the overflow space was not needed. Fifteen minutes before starting, Vicki Biltz began playing traditional hymns (Bettie's favorites) on the piano. Just past three, the service began.

Though I had thought it might be about forty minutes in length, it was actually very close to an hour. The service consisted of:

• Pastor Mark Biltz's message "The End of Life...and The End of Death".
• A photo montage with "Annie's Song" by John Denver and "I Can Only Imagine" by The Maranatha Singers.
• A time of sharing, stories and memories, hosted by Associate Pastor Art Palecek. (Seven people spoke, including our sons Steve and Jim.)
• Two song's by Northwest Sound Men's Chorus: "Their Hearts Were Full of Spring" and "The Irish Blessing".
• The Aaronic Blessing by Pastor Mark.

There was a time of fellowship with food afterward, during which the family was able to meet nearly all of the guests. During this time I received many kind comments on the service, as did other family members. I'll leave it for those who attended to post their thoughts, but all in all, I believe my dear Bettie was honored in a manner befitting her.

Not "The Last Chapter"

I guess I sort of painted myself into a corner by naming the previous two posts "The Last Chapter", although I did say I would post a prologue. Well, I've had numerous requests concerning the blog...but I'm going to continue anyway. (That was supposed to be funny.)

Seriously, I have had a number of readers suggest that possibly some of the most helpful stuff may lie in the future as I move toward the light that I know is out there somewhere. So you can expect the posts to continue for a time. At some point of course, this could become too much about me and would no longer serve to honor its namesake. I'll try not to let that happen.

Before ending this brief post, I'd like to point out an addition that Steve (my editor) and I have added to the blog. If you look just to the right of the post title you'll see a link called:

Bettie's Challenge book

Download & Read all Blog posts (PDF) in chronological order

I've taken all the posts from the Introduction to The Last Chapter and arranged them in chronological order, with a bookmarked table of contents. You can view it in your browser by simply clicking the link. If you want to download it to read in Adobe Reader, print it, share it, or whatever, click the link, then click the "File" menu item and choose "Save As".

Also, we've posted a pdf version of the "program" from the memorial.

The Last Chapter, continued: "Arrangements"

"Arrangements", as they call them, have begun but they cannot be completed until the business week begins on Monday. Burial will be attended by just family, followed (hopefully on the same day) by a memorial service. That service will be at Grace Community Church. (Click the link for a map.) Although we do not attend there, they have wonderful facilities and staff, and it is in our home city of Auburn. I'll add details to this post when I have them. Look for an Update section in the post.

As you can imagine, I'm a little numb right now...not the time for thoughts and such. (There will be time for a prologue post later, so I guess this really isn't the last chapter). Before I close though, let me thank you for the supportive words, thoughts, and prayers that so many of you readers have sent our way these last few months. As I've said more than once, this is not something anyone should try alone. Though I'm lonely, I know for sure I am not alone.

-------------------- Update --------------------

Bettie's memorial service will be at Grace Community Church, on Friday, January 8th, at 3:00 p.m. (See the link above for a map.) A reception will immediately follow the service in an adjacent room, and will include a pot-luck meal. If you are so inclined, you could bring a cold dish such as a salad, cold-cuts, bread, cheese, or a desert.

There will be an opportunity for a few brief stories and memories of Bettie to add to the celebration of a life well-lived. We'll conclude with a couple of songs by my dear brothers in the Northwest Sound Men's Chorus that you won't want to miss. Hint: bring tissue.

If you are able, it would be such an honor to see you there

You can enter the parking lot for Grace Community Church, directly from Auburn Way S. Enter the church via the entrance on that (the west) side of the building. Once inside, the chapel will be to your left. If you have brought food, someone will take it from you in the foyer and deliver it to the Fireside Room for the reception. That room is straight ahead through the foyer.

Bettie's obituary appeared in both The Seattle Times and The Bellingham Herald today.

The Last Chapter

The final two days were peaceful, and seemingly without pain. Thursday morning I began to feed her breakfast. She opened her mouth just barely enough to convince me that she would take something. I gave her a small bite, but I'm not sure she swallowed much of it...then she went to sleep. That turned out to be her last waking moment.

Whether this was a deep sleep or a coma, I don't know. It doesn't matter, does it? During the next 44 hours, she was changed and moved multiple times, with little recognition of anything.

The experts tell us that hearing is the last system to shut down. With that assurance, she "heard" the whole family express their gratitude for what she has meant to them over the years. I'm the lucky one...I got to have two nights with her in this state. So she heard a lot from me. When it was time, (3:43 am Saturday, January 2nd) she gave a deep sigh, and finished her challenge.