Betty and Ward: Vulnerability and Deep Strength

I worked with Betty and her family for several months before her husband Ward died one December afternoon. Betty and Ward were a devoutly faithful couple with two devoted children, a cherished congregation, and a legacy of creative service to their many communities.

In the month before his death, I watched Betty care for Ward with tireless devotion as his decline became increasingly debilitating. The morning of his death, she was the one showing warning signs of exhaustion. His death, when it came, surprised us all; a hospice nurse, a death doula, and his family gathered close. And, as sometimes happens, it was not the death we had hoped for. Ward experienced periods of profound discomfort that we struggled to soothe.

Throughout the evening, Betty held fast, buoyed by her children and her faith. When feelings came, she allowed them, weeping without resistance. And when she could, she prayed over Ward, joked with him, kissed his face, touched drops of their favorite whiskey to his trembling lips. At every moment she was in love, and in pain, and filled with a luminous, unshakeable grace. I cherish my memory of her that night. She showed me how vulnerability and deep strength tangle together in our most human moments.