Corrective note

I must make clear that my Easter gratitude (last post) is genuine and the risen Jesus holds fast my faith. However, I realize how it may have sounded almost facile to skeptical friends. Is accepting a loved one's death that easy?  I need to add some reality, not to dramatize the sadness, but to safeguard against any impression that these last months have been coasting in comfort. Times of desolation have been acute. And were Carol's prayers answered in ways that she wanted? No. Our Christian faith faced struggles these last few months. Do I need to mention this? Well, only to underline how faith in God does not protect you from distress, but grants a way through. 

Carol was in bed for much of the time since mid-July 2025. Being at home meant comfort was always near. She never mentioned feeling alone or scared! However, her seven weeks in hospital was a different matter  During each day I stayed 8 to 10 hours. Her neurological disease (still undiagnosed as we await further brain post-mortem results) gave her times of lucidity in the midst of complete unreality. This was a frightening combination of knowing everything was strange around her with constant pain while not understanding what was actually happening to her. Even though her brain disease removed her ability to walk and use her hands, she still wanted to get out of bed and talked longingly of returning home soon. In the last few weeks her loss of swallowing was clearly terminal. Eating became impossible and even with careful sipping, her occasional choking racked her with panicked pain. Much of my time (really hours) was spent holding a drink with a straw to her chapped lips, encouraging the smallest of sips. 

There were particular moments of desolation. One came most nights at the painful moment of my leaving. I would say a prayer, leaning close with a kiss. Often she pleaded for me to stay. I can still hear the cry: ' Please don't leave me! I would stay a little longer until visiting hours were over.  But in the morning I heard from patients in adjoining beds how in the night she was crying out for help and sometimes sobbing. Nobody would give her a drink. I am sure some nurses did help, but her loneliness and desperation was heartbreaking. 

Another grave day, Carol shared her grief openly. She told me how much she had been praying to God to help her. 'I'm praying, and praying. I'm in such a mess but He won't help me. Why won't he help me?'  I had told her several times how serious her illness was and, by prayer, had hoped to prepare her for dying.  But the dementia aspect of her neurological disease was unable to comprehend.  I reassured her of God's love and of his promise to hold her fast in the valley of shadow, but until towards the very end it seemed to be incomprehensible to her anguished mind. As I mentioned in some past posts I do believe she came to a place of deeper peace at the end of her journey. When she slipped to glory I saw she was serenely at rest. I rejoice her cruel suffering is over. How I wish she had never had to go through it, yet Christian believers are not guaranteed freedom from suffering, are they?  Carol's Easter faith - the hymns we shall sing at her thanksgiving - holds fast through desolation. 

Easter Gratitude

It's a while ago that I preached on the Beatitude: Blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted. (Perhaps I should look back and see how helpful it might have been/be?) But the greatest comfort in mourning is the resurrection story and its grounding truth for all living and dying. I admit the lively Easter Sunday morning service in my church with its all-in children's presence (!) was a contrast with the inner feelings I have, but the Easter truth rang out loudly with its transforming power. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!  

Though my family could not be with me, two friends in my church family shared their lunch with me. Their home has become familiar through their kindness during past months of Carol's illness, and this time with them made Easter all the better. To be with Easter people who share faith is the greatest blessing.  Yes, it truly helps those who mourn. 

One of the less bearable tasks has been planning the services for the crematorium and the church afterwards. However, Carol loved the classic Easter hymns (as well as contemporary ones too). In our Cambridge ministry I used to often choose them for communion services to emphasize the presence of Jesus at the table. I remember her delight with the hymn :Low in the grave he lay. It was the chorus she would sing out: 

Up from the grave he arose,

with a mighty triumph o'er his foes;

he arose a victor from the dark domain,

and he lives for ever with his saints to reign:

He arose! He arose!

Alleluia!  Christ arose!

So, we shell end her service with these words.  Plenty of exclamation marks but it's worth exclaining!

Hugs in strangeness

Yesterday I returned to church after weeks of absence, lately beside Carol's bed or zooming the services. I knew that church friends (and they really are friends!) would welcome me yet I confess some hesitation about the emotion of being back without Carol.  It hardly needs saying that Carol's presence always added joy and vigour to conversations. It's not that I don't try but it seemed effortless to her. Always among the first to grab a tea and mix with people after the services she revelled in fellowship. I quoted one of her church friends on Facebook yesterday. In her card,she wrote: Carol - flamboyantly, outrageously wonderful, a heart for God, a heart for people. Always ready with an anecdote, told in her own inimitable way. Time spent with Carol made you feel better!  

By contrast, after the service, I would often find myself in quieter conversation with the one or two, still without a coffee, with all the flamboyant outrageous stuff in the hall next door. But yesterday, from the beginning, the kindness and warmth of people was so genuine with the warmest of hugs and compassionate of words that I can't say it was effortless but nearly so!. Friends did ask me that difficult question: 'How are you, Michael?' Difficult, because truthfully you don't know how to answer in the anesthesia and tiredness of all the practical busyness. In early bereavement, the bewildering new life bewilders. But the love and prayers and hugs yesterday were wonderful to enjoy. Holy Week is the best time to re-enter congregational worship to prepare for resurrection day.  Right on the nail for bereavement. 

Clearer details

In the whirlwind of the last few days a key date has solidified.  It's some way off but this is vital for my family (small though it is) to gather from the US and Univ. finals.  Monday April 27 at 1:30 pm is now set for a Thanksgiving Service at Histon Baptist Church. As a family we shall meet for a committal service at the crematorium in the morning. 

There are so many thanks we shall want to give for Carol's life.  I know the boys will both reflect on their Mum in the service and some of that will be lively! The sheer range of contacts who have expressed their feelings to me has truly surprised me and fills me with pride.  She really did make a difference in other's lives.

Already, now the date is known, the ladies (I think it will be mostly ladies!) are beginning to plan out refreshments.  Musicians are being marshalled including one of our friends who wants to play the organ alongside other musicians. The organizer of the church flowers has been in touch about Carol's favourite text and what flowers should best be chosen to remember her. Isn't that great? The text Carol was given at her baptism always remained significant and I think that's probably the one I shall choose. Those who knew Carol best, realize how wisely appropriate it was. 'Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you' (1 Pet.5:7). One of her great anxieties was that I would die before her. This is not an uncommon worry, is it? 'I couldn't bear to me left on my own', she said.  Well, God really cares for her.

More details will emerge with hopes to zoom the service so that friends at a distance can share with us. I look forward to providing more details as they emerge.

A horrid day

I've tried not to think about it too much.. The post-mortem for Carol eventually took place at Addenbrookes Hospital, Cambridge today.  As expected (at least by the neurological researchers) no immediate cause of death was evident, so her brain is now undergoing histology examination with biopsies likely to take many weeks before any conclusions are drawn.  Nearly 2 weeks after her death we are still in limbo.

However, I am being issued with an interim death certificate that apparently acts like the real thing. I can plan the funeral with the family and, I think, register the death even though the proper certification is some way in the future. I have registered deaths before but it is definitely different for your wife.  As regards the funeral, I am meeting with the funeral director soon and have already been talking with our minister at Histon Baptist Church. It's a smaller building but it has become our spiritual home and, importantly, the ladies of the church are already gearing up to provide refreshments,.  They wonder how many people might turn up? Good question.

Fortunately the service will be online with Zoom which should enable friends at a distance to share in the service.  I am so relieved to have reached this stage. As soon as clear details emerge I shall post them, of course. So, expect to hear before long though the service will be a little way off so that my US family and London family with final exams etc. are all accounted for. 

Limbo

Eight days since Carol's death and I am still waiting for the next move.  The Medical Examiner, Funeral Director, Minister, and us as family are all dependent on what the Coroner determines about a post-mortem.  Through early confusion, when I was allocated a Coroner's Officer, who a day later (after many phone calls) I discovered was incorrectly given to me, I was given a really keen-to-help Officer.  However, she had not dealt with a possible Creutzfeldt-Jacob Disease before (not many have) so she needed to begin a slow discovery process.  Early I explained that the last scan Carol endured (that's the word) had revealed it was unlikely to be CJD but this didn't seem to register..

So, these last four days I learned that a CJD post mortem was likely to be inevitable. Various unhelpful facts emerged. That there were only a couple of UK mortuaries willing to undertake such a post-mortem - in Edinburgh and London.  The disease is seriously contagious when exposed -nobody wants the job! The plot thickened when I learned that actually no CJD postmortems have recently been carried out in the country.  In this exasperating limbo I kept pressing for the original researchers to be fully consulted. 

However, I'm relieved that there now appears to have been a high level neurological meeting today and we might know more next week. .All the time, I am remembering dear Carol in the suffering of the last few days - how unusual her disease is proving to be and how bravely she bore it. And I have been immeasurably comforted by the tens of cards, letters now coming each day (it's a long time since the postman was regular). Your memories, anecdotes and descriptions have been heart warming. Soul warming. I am so grateful and I know the family will be when they come to see the range and depth of greeting.  And, hopefully, there will be news of a thanksgiving service soon. 

Farewell dear Carol

Dara, my daughter-in-law sent me photos she had taken of Carol, singling out this one as her favourite. I like it too. It catches the smile and joy as she was with family. I posted it on Facebook yesterday which issued immediately in an overwhelming (in the best sense) torrent of sympathy with friends' memories. So far, over a hundred friends from our varied past have surprised me by their specific memories of her in action and their love for Carol.  What an extraordinary comfort it is to learn how others have been genuinely touched in meaningful ways by your loved one  Likewise, I so value each of the comments made by some of you on this blog.  I would love to be able to reply to everyone - please forgive me but the word 'overwhelming' is true in these first days and appropriate answers are some way off!  Thank you so much for your prayers.