Ode to Paige

March 26, 2021

Today is something of a life anniversary for me. I implore you to allow this divergence from my Blog theme to offer this Ode to Paige. This entry is unique. Next Friday I will resume the Blog theme —“Finding Joy in the Journey”.

On this date, one year ago, March 26, 2020—just one week into spring, my beloved Paige, “…outran me into Our Father’s House.” * How appropriate that as spring adorned earth with new life, Paige gained new life in Eternity. Ten days earlier, the COVID-19 Pandemic locked down Emory University’s Healthcare facilities where she was a patient.

I was able to see Paige only twice after lockdown. The first time just briefly. Only an intra-staff miscommunication allowed me in. I was immediately chased out by the head nurse. The other visit was a few hours before Paige died.

The blessing here is that Paige, lingering longer, would have suffered alone—cared for by overworked, understaffed, care teams; they had little time to feed or comfort her. Paige was already in dramatic decline and under heavy sedation. She would have lingered alone. Our being unable to see each other—and her care by staff becoming even more spastic— a horrifying loneliness lay ahead for her. Nevertheless, I grieve deeply for her.

A few months earlier, during my annual checkup, my doctor pointed out that my grief had been going on for years. It is called Anticipatory Grief. This information didn’t remove my grief, but gave me some insight into the process. I came to realize that my grief had begun more than five years earlier, as Parkinson’s Disease insinuated its sinister, stealthy, slink into her body. Two blessings I cherish are Paige’s faith, and that she maintained her acuity to the end. Once this strange intruder became named, (“Corticobasal Ganglionic Degeneration,” aka Parkinson’s Disease), friends and family kept constant, comforting vigil of prayer and care for the duration.

John Pavlovitz said, “…the thing you learn as you grieve deeply—when you lose someone you love, you lose a bit of you. You don’t simply lose yourself metaphorically or symbolically, but you have stolen away the part of your story that only they knew. You lose the shared memories you curated. You lose the you who you were when you were with them. A part of you dies too, and so you want the person you love returned to you because you want that piece of your identity back—and you know you can’t have it.”

Paige’s doctor, upon diagnosing her, said, “This is a degenerative disease. We have not found a cure for it. How do you think you will deal with the degeneration?” Without missing a beat she said, “I know Whose I am. I know where I’m going. I am not afraid.”

Paige faced the inevitable undaunted, without complaining or giving up. And she never feared. Paige was concerned only about my welfare; she urged me to find someone, after she’s gone, to make me happy. She fought for normalcy, which never came, although we both tried—to the very last.

Paige and I kept each “New Normal’ as much as we could; such as our “Sunday night Burger King Picnic,” and continued discovering new normalities. I would sit beside her bed and feed her a “Whopper Jr.,” fries, and the verboten Coke! …while we watched “Animal Planet” on TV. Paige always looked forward to that treat! If it seemed I was about to forget, she reminded me; “It’s Burger King Picnic night.” Despite the hospital protocols, she persisted relentlessly. She stoically tolerated its indignities, including relinquishing her most personal-care needs to caregivers and staff. Paige did not sink into sorry squawking, but bravely soldiered on.

I could not have ordered a better friend, confidant, wife, life-companion, and mother for our daughters—not even from the Sears and Roebuck catalog (Yep, that was its name back in the day!) . Full disclosure; as it turns out, I did not choose her. Years after we married, I discovered Paige had chosen me—back in our college days—long before our first date!! I am still not sure why. But it always thrills my heart when I recall that she wanted me; Even if she did have to come to Emory to get me (she never showed her hand; even back in college!) Paige gladly gave up maiden name, Paige Dampier for Paige D. Moore. She enthusiastically leaned into life with this itinerant preacher (some days, more gleefully than others)!

Here is the joy I know she now enjoys:

“God himself will be with (her);
he will wipe every tear from (her) eyes.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
for the first things have passed away.”

Paige and I were married for fifty-six (56) years, seven months, five days, and twelve hours.

Dear love of my life, I miss you incredibly! I will see you in The Morning, sweetheart!

______________

*This phrase is ‘borrowed” from the late Bishop Arthur J. Moore, he mourned the death of Martha, his beloved wife.