April 15, 1997

Dear Relatives and Friends,

    My lovely wife, Jean, winged her way to God about 4:30 am on Monday, April 14, 1997 after a

three year battle against ovarian cancer. She died in the hospice of Howard Country General

Hospital, Columbia, Maryland, and we will bury her in the soil of her native Arkansas (Fort

Smith) on Saturday, April 19, 1997 from which God created this magnificent woman.

The end came rather quickly. Cancer seems to work like that. One reaches plateaus and then

drops like from a precipice. Her last lucid day, Friday, the 11th, was magnificent. Though short

of breath from her ineffective lungs resulting from scarring by the cancer cells (a mass never

formed after the one removed in 1994), she spoke with us, and laughed, and made the biggest

joke of all that afternoon. A "pastoral minister" from our parish was leaning close and speaking

this god awful prayer in her ear ending with something like: "so when God is ready, you, too, be

ready!" Jean sat up, turned to the nun and said: "I'm NOT ready!" It was not a statement of

denial but rather an affirmation that she was prepared for her next round with the disease which

she was confident she would win like the previous ones. I understand that even the nun is

relating this humorous story to everyone in the parish. No one ever responded to her "stock"

prayer like this before.

    Saturday morning the oncologist asked her if she felt pain, and she said yes, a little. He said: "On

a scale of 1 to 10 what is it?" She paused to think but didn't answer. So he palpated her abdomen

gently, and she said: "Oh, there, a little pain." He said: "I'll interpret that to mean 8 on a scale of

10!" He knew she consistently under reported her pain. So he raised the morphine level to 4 mg

per hour, with a button to press for additional as needed. She spent the day in a daze and didn't

speak again after that. Rose Marie Coughlin, her executive director at Maryland New Directions

stayed along with her husband, Jim, to be with Jean through this week-end and to lend assistance.

    When I returned from the airport with her 80 year old mother and younger brother that

afternoon at 5, some indications suggested to the nurse that her time was short. We prayed and I

talked intently into her ear to thank her for her life, her gifts, for everything, but she refused to

go. We stayed up with her round the clock till Sunday morning because the next nurse said she

wouldn't make the night. But she did.

    When the oncologist came on Sunday he tested her eyes and said: "She's now in a deep coma.

She feels no pain thanks to the morphine. She is at peace and will probably just sleep away into

eternity. Her suffering is now ended; yours is just beginning." He continued: "Studies indicate

that though people in a coma can't speak, they can hear, so continue to talk to her." I did, almost

non-stop, telling her she could go if she wished. The battles were ended. We won the major ones,

and gained three extra and very precious years of life together. I thanked her over and over again

for her life, her gifts to all who knew her.

    On Sunday, a stream of phone calls came from Context Group Friends here in the US as Bruce

Malina and KC Hanson spread the word of her imminent end. After each call, I'd go back to her

bedside and tell her who called and what they said. I read her the e-mail messages, too.

Sunday afternoon she suffered a strong seizure, then a somewhat weaker one about 10pm, and

gradually she began to breathe more slowly and less laboriously. The oncologist said she had an

incredibly strong heart, but the lack of sufficient oxygen through those scarred lungs is what

really brought Sister Death. Her mother and I took turns keeping vigil since lack of sleep was

beginning to take its toll. About 4:30am the nurse came in and noted shallower, shorter breaths

spaced longer apart. Shortly thereafter she stopped breathing, and her heart stopped a few

minutes later.

    I plan to have memorial services for her here in Baltimore for friends and acquaintances (May 3,

1997, 10am, at St. Matthew Church (Loch Raven Blvd and Melbourne), in New York City or

Brooklyn for family in that region (September), and of course a moment of "celebration of Jean's life"

when we get  together in Prague (May) and Seattle (August) in coming months. Your loving support

has meant the world to both of us, all the more since we have no family in the area, and actually

since  very little family is left.

    In recent months Jean did not want to be alone, and I tried to spend as much time with her as I

possibly could. In her last days, that too was something I repeated: "You are not alone, Jean."

    So dear friends rejoice with me in celebrating Jean's life and her continued life in the Risen Lord

with her transformed body which will never again experience the ravages of a disease like

cancer. "Many women have done excellently, [Jean], but you surpass them all" Proverbs 31:29

With grateful affection, John
 
 

Jean's explanation of her stationery on which this announcement is printed:

"The Greek word "kerygma" means announcement, message, or in the Christian bible, "Good News." Kerygma Resources is the umbrella that I created in 1987 under which I have written articles, designed and produced educational videos, and many other creative projects apart from my full-time employment. A friend of mine, Ed Hays,  priest of the Archdiocese of Kansas City, KS drew the logo which I conceived and designed."