Losing your best friend is a confusing thing, a frustrating
thing, a heartbreaking thing. It’s like
having a part of your heart torn out that you can never mend. I’ve had so many emotions running through me
the past week that I thought writing it out would help. Writing clears my heart and mind of clutter…but
this is my second try.
Pauletta and I walked through life together for 24
years. We walked through the valleys and
mountain tops of each other’s lives. Now
where to start?
First Grade – Lev met Pauletta’s son Tyler, and it wasn’t
much later till he asked to spend the night with Tyler. Not knowing them – and being a super
protective parent, I wasn’t going to say yes till I met them. She called and we talked on the phone for a
while, but I still just couldn’t. But
then one Sunday, she and her whole bushel of kids showed up at Canton Baptist –
where I was going to church. Her, her
husband, Tyler, a stepson and a stepdaughter.
It wasn’t long after that I said yes to let him go home one Sunday
afternoon and back that night. Now, at
that time I wasn’t going to church on Sunday nights, but since I had to pick
Lev up at church, I went. She kept me
going thereafter on Sunday nights too.
And we'd talk on the phones - a lot of times it was the same conversation. "Did you know there's a field trip tomorrow?" "No! I didn't get a form." And then she'd either copy it and fill it out for me, or she'd get me one if it was over a weekend. And report card day, we made sure both of us knew! LOL! Our boys were boys! I can remember us adopting each other's punishment methods more than once! We made those boys write Bible verses until I was sure they'd start hating the Bible.
I’d sit by her in church and I had my King James Version
bible, which at the time was the only version I’d read. She was reading NKJV and of course, I was frowning
on that. She kept telling me – if you
can’t understand what it says, what good is it to read it? Then one day she comes to church with a big
bible – still in the box, a marker, a set of highlighters for the Bible, and
gave it to me. It was a Spirit Filled
Life NKJV Bible. I still have it.
Not but a week or so ago I felt the need to pull it out and
just see if I could find anything of her in it.
When you love someone and you know they’re leaving you, you desire
anything of them to fill that hole. I
found the front page where she’d filled out that she gave it to me. I cried.
I found a marker of the 10 commandments she’d bought for all the kids
there at Canton – and later we found out they’d left one of the commandments
out! LOL! I gave her lots of jabs over that! LOL! Then I found a wooden Bible market that says
“INTEGRITY” on one end, and then “Lord, who may dwell in your sanctuary? He
whose walk is blameless and who does what is righteous, who speaks the truth
from his heart and has no slander in his tongue” (Psalm 15:1-3). This was
significant to me at that time because I’d just done something that hurt two
people. I said something that wasn’t
true, and I don’t to this day know why I did it. But it hurt several people, and I will never
forget it. Even at that point, lying in
the hospital sedated, she was correcting me.
That’s one of the things I loved about our
relationship. We were BRUTALLY honest
with each other. But we both would take
it. In a way, we were mothers to each
other. We held each other accountable
for everything. And let me make one bad
move – and she’d be the first to call me. I’m going to miss that most of
all. Her honesty was flawless.
I would miss church one Sunday night and even before she got
home she’d be calling me. It would go
like this: Me: Hello, Pauletta:
“HEATHEN!!! WHERE WERE YOU TONIGHT?”.
And no excuse was good enough, and I knew it. Oh but then when she missed – you know I got
to call her HEATHEN too!
I remember one Sunday night that she loved to talk about. We were sitting on the FRONT ROW - right in front of Brother Paul Cannon. The boys were a seat or two behind. Her boys were doing something she didn't like - I can't remember. We got up to sing at the beginning of the service, and she leaned over to me and said, not as much of a whisper as 'indoor voice', "Hand me your belt!" With the command she gave I knew I'd better do it. I took it off standing there, and slipped it over to her. She darted out of that pew, took Tyler and Little Phil out of their pews and out the door!. A few minutes later, the boys came back in front of her huffing that 'I just got my butt whipped' cry, and sat down. She sat down right beside me again and slung that belt back to me. I didn't know whether to laugh or move far enough away she couldn't reach me!
Little things along the way she would teach me, and I would
give her advice too. Our children had
the impact of both of them on us because we both felt obligated to mother
them. I remember one night that Tyler
came home with Lev, and that Sunday morning we were going to bring him to
church. I opened his backpack to be sure
he hadn’t missed anything and – just a pre-teen maybe 8 years old – he’d put
some of Lev’s new shirts in his backpack.
Oh my goodness I inflicted fear in that child that day. I remember making him sit on the stairs till
we got ready to leave and telling him I’d never trust him again. I was consciously trying to put some fear in
him. Then we got to church and of course
we were late. I eased into Sunday School
right behind Pauletta and Big Phil. She
turns around and says quietly, “How’s my boy?” I whispered to her “He tried to
steal Lev’s new shirts this morning”.
She sat there for all of 30 seconds before she darted up, went and
pulled him out of Sunday School, and whipped his butt! She was a strong mother and stepmother. In later years she would talk about how she
didn’t do a good job; she carried a lot of guilt. But I’d tell her over and over, kids get to a
point in their life when they must make a decision to do right or wrong because
it’s their life and we can’t live it for them or direct it. She did her best.
We did all sorts of things together. We’d take the kids to see Bible Man (I didn’t
know there was such a thing till she told me!).
We’d take them to see the Power Team, a bunch of muscle bound guys who
were evangelist. We’d take them out on
their boat. But most of all – we always
took them to church. Sunday morning,
Sunday night, Wednesday night. And if
there was something special we could do, to get all the kids down to Canton
together, we’d do that too. Jessica
Whitten was the brain of that operation most of the time.
One time we were going to have a sleep over and Jessica
planned it to be a Luau. She and Dennis
built these little huts with paper leaves on top for the kids to sleep in, and
we had water balloons, a kiddy swimming pool, movies, popcorn, you name
it. It was a blast.
Pauletta never failed to bring up one of these events
though! Oh my gosh, I’ve made some big mistakes in my life but this one had me
in tears. We had the pre-teens in the
group in a sleepover, and before bedtime that night we were going to do a “Fear
Factor” thing. It was my idea (rolling
my eyes now). So, we lined them all up
against the wall in the basement. The
deal was who ever could go through all the tests we had would win. We started with biting down on a lemon and
not wincing. Lev sat down at that point,
and a few others. Then I had a can of
Beef Hash that I’d relabeled as dog food.
Oh, there were a few that I thought were going to absolutely barf! I
remember one little gal that turned literally GREEN! But she did it. And I remember one of Lev’s friends taking
the bit and saying “looks like corned beef hash!”. LOL!
I’d had this idea while making homemade ice cream just a few
weeks ago. When you put salt and ice
together, they get EXTREMELY cold. I
remember putting my hand in it and I just couldn’t stand it after a while. So….I did it.
I gave each one a piece of ice and sprinkled salt on top of it and told
them to shut their hand. If they could
stand it, they would stay in. One young
boy said to me “My ice is gone”. I
opened his hand and there was a huge WHITE BLISTER! Pauletta saw it and she screamed “Open your
hands! Open your hands!” Then the kids
all started crying, running to the water to wash their hands off. I still remember one little girl, the one
that turned green, crying so hard. I
just cried with them. I couldn’t do
anything about it at that point. The
next morning when everyone came to get their kids I had to tell them what
happened. That was so horrible. I missed church that Sunday morning because I
knew everyone was mad. I was told that
Wednesday night that one of the nurses at the school was asking who did this
down at Canton. They were all going to
see the nurse.
Pauletta NEVER let me forget that. We’d be talking and if anyone else was there,
she’d make me tell the story, and then she’d laugh because I cried with the
kids. The morning after when they were
all waking up and their hand hurting, she told them all to “Suck it up! You’re
killing Mrs. Faithie!” Those sweet babies would come by and say “Mine doesn’t
hurt Mrs. Faithie.” But I knew it did.
Even years and years later when Lev was a teen, she had me telling the
story one night and I found that one of his friends was in that group – and I
didn’t even remember him being there. He
had a scar on his hand from it to prove it.
Pauletta was always there when I needed her. One morning when Gabby was about 3 years old,
I took the kids to my Moms to stay. They
stayed with her and my dad while I worked.
When I got to the door I found out that my dad had been very depressed,
to the point that they had called my pastor to come see them (not wanting their
church to know about it). I knew he
needed treatment so I left the kids there and went to get my brother. While on the way I called Pauletta, told her
everything and asked if she could keep the kids. 5 minutes later I get back to my Moms, and
there she was – in her Pajamas, loading my kids into the car. She had my kids for three days, and would
call every night to see how Daddy was doing.
I asked one night, “Do you want me to come get them”? and she told me –
“No, they’re happy here. We lock them in the closet for an hour a day and
whisper to them under the door – WE’RE YOUR PARENTS! WE’RE YOUR PARENTS! They
won’t even recognize you when you get here!” LOL! And sure enough when I got there, Lev is
playing with Tyler, and Gabby is sitting in the floor watching TV. She turned around and said “Hi Mommy” and
turned right back to the TV! LOL! They both loved Pauletta. How could they not?
We’d talk on the phone often late at night. I remember one night watching the Blair Witch
movie. I never watch horror movies
because I know the Bible says to think on things that are pure and good and
true and there’s nothing good in fear.
But I sat there alone one night and watched in, and was so terrified to
go to bed that I called her crying one night around 11. She laughed so hard at me, and then prayed
with me. At this point I’m crying just
remembering it. Dear God, who will pray
with me now when I’m afraid? Who could I ever open up to like I did her?
Back in the years when Gabby was a just a toddler – so I’d
say maybe the year was around 2000 or so.
She became involved in the Walk to Emmaus movement. It was a Christian retreat weekend where men
would go one weekend, and then women the next.
She went on weekend 24 I believe, and then sponsored me on weekend 25,
which was an overflow weekend. They had
too many women sign up and couldn’t get them all in, so they did Walk #25. It was very secretive as to what it was
about. That was mostly so that each
person could have a unique experience with God without any expectations or set
thoughts. So secretive in fact, I almost
chickened out. Then she told me just
relax, “would I make you do anything you wouldn’t feel comfortable with.” LOL!
I should have said “Yes, of course you would!”, but I didn’t.
That weekend, on a Friday night she came and got me and
drove me to the church in Hoptown where it was being held. On the way she told me that I shouldn’t be
alarmed when they bring a goat into the church, and everyone rides on it – and
I should too. I was appalled! A goat? That’s
the sign of a sinner in the Bible! And
when I got done getting outranged, she laughed her butt off at me. And then says, I’m just kidding, but there is
one thing you’re not going to like, but just keep and open mind. I agreed to do so. That weekend brought me closer to God than
anything else in my life. I’d been saved
in 1971 after my family was in a car accident.
I know I was saved that night in my Momma Pearls house. But I never knew and understood the deep,
eternal, love of God until that weekend.
At the end of the weekend we are all given a chance to say something
about the weekend. I remember getting to
the mic, and bursting into tears saying “God loves us sooooo much!”. I looked at her and she was bawling! That was one of the most loving, life
changing things she ever did for me.
A few years later she sponsored her Dad to go. One of the most heartwarming memories I have of her and her Dad, Paul was when Paul go to the mic at the end of the weekend, burst into tears, and told her he loved her. She ran forward from the pews in that little church and hugged him. Her heart was leaking out her eyes! I still smile just thinking about that.
It was either during that time or later that she decided to
go back to school to be a nurse. She was
going to HCC, and doing well, but would sometimes tell me she didn’t think
she’d make it. Then came the time for
her to take her nursing test. She failed
it. I tried to call and her husband said
she didn’t want to talk to me. Well, now
that was tough on my heart! I let it go
for about 2 days and that Monday morning I was going to be working in Murray. I made peanut butter fudge, her favorite, the
night before and showed up at her house that morning unexpectedly. She opened the door in her nightgown, and I
just held the peanut butter fudge out to her.
She cried and cried, and I hugged her as tight as I could. She let me in and we talked about it for a
couple of hours. It wasn’t long after
that when she re-enrolled in nursing school, but this time in
Madisonville. She passed the next test
and I was there to see her pinned.
She told me many times after that day that it was God’s will
for her to fail because Madisonville made her a better nurse. She was a wonderful nurse too! She was my
nurse later in years when I had my gallbladder taken out. Of course, I joked with her about her rude
bedside manner, and she threatened to give me another shot!
I remember her calling me several nights to tell me what
horrible things she’d seen that day as a nurse.
Some of them were funny, some of them crazy, and some made her and me
cry. She was so excited when her twin
sister Paula went to nursing school too. I kept telling “Please don’t work at
the same hospital, seeing two of you would drive some of the patients insane!”
I think they actually did work at the same place for a little while.
Years went by and they were offered rent free living for
going to her in-law’s church. Her
Father-In-Lew was the pastor. They were
in debt and this was a way to recover.
So they moved into their house on the lake, and they left Canton and
went to that church. I was
heartbroken. But what was I to do about
it? I knew they needed to get out of debt.
But as time went on she and I didn’t talk as much. When we did I could tell she wasn’t happy
there. She didn’t have a good
relationship with the in-laws. We grew
apart, but still would call each other every time something went wrong or we
needed advice. Admittedly, I called her
most because I was miserable without her.
But we made other friends that filled that gap. Jessica Whitten became my go-to for all my
worries. I was blessed to have Jessica
come along at that point in my life. We
were both missing them.
Time went by and 2007 hit.
My first divorce. I fell into
depression. My parents had shut me out because I was a divorcee. Pauletta called me up often. We talked, cried, and we laughed. She saw me through it and so did
Jessica. That year I started going to
Trigg County Baptist, where Pauletta was going – and eventually Jessica too, my
sweet Uncle, and others. It felt so much
like a family there. I remember when
church was over we would all gather into the center isle and talk for so long
the preacher would have to tell us it was time to go home! So then we’d talk in the parking lot.
I don’t like to talk about 2008. I hit an all time low in my life as a mother
and as a woman. I let a man enter my
life who told me he was a pastor and a southern gospel concert organizer. Yet in months to come, after being married to
him for 5 weeks, I found he was dangerous.
I remember sitting at a Bible Study we were doing at my house one night,
and knowing that her mom had committed suicide when she was a little girl, he
said that people that commit suicide don’t to go heaven (that’s false by the
way). The look on her face at that
minute will ever be stuck in my heart. One
night he said to me at the dinner table one night “I could own you. I could own your retirement, your car, this
house, everything.” That was just one of several threatening statements. The divorce was settled the next week. But
for some crazy reason, I kept trying to figure out where I went wrong, what had
I done? I was then a failure on two
marriages in my parents’ eyes. I’d
brought him into my home, and he’d tried to rule my own children. I had hit a disgusting, spirit breaking rock
bottom. I saw a counselor after that for
several months.
Pauletta and all my friends would call me up during that
time and tell me he was no good. I just
wouldn’t listen. Finally, after a 40 day
fast from breakfast and lunch, God revealed it.
Exactly one year from the date I first met him, I told him to never come
near me or my kids again. Pauletta’s
words were “Well, it’s about damn time!”.
I can still hear her voice saying it - and she was right.
Just days after that I remember going to her house with some
friends to bring in the new year. That
house was special. She and Philip had built that house themselves. In the walls they wrote Bible verses all
through it. I always thought what a cool
think that was to do.
In 2009 I met Don. She
was as excited for me. Don is a good
godly man who would lead me closer to God.
When I asked one of my friends about him, he answered “He’s a good
man.” I always thought, what an odd
thing to say about someone, but now I know just how much of a good man, which
was more than I could imagine. Pauletta
knew him and his daughter from Emmaus Weekends and Chrysalis weekends.
When we got married I left Trigg County Baptist and we went
to his church in Hopkinsville, Calvary Memorial. I didn’t get to talk to her as much, but we
tried to keep in touch. Sometimes it
would be months that we wouldn’t talk or more.
But when we got to talking it was as if we’d never been apart. Eventually the drive to Hopkinsville for
church got too long, and we realized we weren’t able to serve that far
away. So we came back to Trigg County
Baptist. At that time the church was
really small. Pauletta and Philip were
two of a hand full that lasted through the church dwindling down. We were so distant when I came back that it
took a while for us to get close again – like weeks, but not months.
Several things in Pauletta’s life were hard. Losing her mom when she was just a kid. Her first divorce. Her son constantly getting
in trouble. And then there was her step
son’s grandchild. I can’t remember his
full name, but Philip was part of his name.
He was born premature, and never made it home from the hospital. I remember praying for that child so many
times in the days when he was in Louisville.
She’d call and give me and update, and I’d pray some more. She was so attached to this tiny little baby
boy. When he did pass, she was
hysterically crying. I could barely make
out what was wrong. She, and the entire
family were just soaked in grief and pain.
I went down to see her once they got home and took her some more Peanut
Butter Fudge. She broke into tears and
hugged me tight.
And then there was her beautiful granddaughter, Eliza. She loved that child with every inch of her
heart. It was so cute how Eliza looked
just like Pauletta’s baby pictures. She
was playing with Eliza often, having her come over, doing Grandma stuff, and so
happy. Then Tyler did some things that
got him sent away for a long time. Eliza’s mom didn’t want her child to have
anything to do with anyone near Tyler. I
can sort of understand that as a mom. But
all Pauletta ever wanted was to be Eliza’s grandmother. She loved her so very much. I remember a year
or two ago she called me crying and someone had sent her pictures of Eliza from
some ball game or something. She was so
happy to see her but was so miserable not to be able to just be near her. She told me at that time “I just want to
die!” and I told her “No, you don’t. One
day she will be old enough to make her own decisions and she’ll come see
you.” Nothing seemed to make the pain go
away, and I learned not to ask about Eliza.
It was like scratching the scab off a wound.
Then came her divorce from Philip. I won’t go into all the details, but she loved him. At that time she thought he was the love of her life, but God had better things planned! She left him because
she had to – not because she wanted to.
Philip took some turns in life that she knew she couldn’t go down with
him. So, she moved to Paducah with her
sister for a while, and then got her own place there. She was so proud to have her own little apartment. She bought an aquarium and fish, and even got
a cat! Yeah, I called her cat lady and
talked about liter box smells a lot! LOL!
She dated a bit during that time. Just different guys she would meet. She wasn’t serious about any of them until one
came along. That would be her husband of
a little under 10 months when she went to Jesus. Michael was good to her – and she made sure I
knew it. She was always sending me a
text like “Michael is washing my car!” “Michael is cooking dinner!” “Michael ran
me a bath!”. It was so good to know she
was happy again. And it was so much fun
to kid her about robbing the cradle too! Michael is 10 years younger than her
(but as he put it, he has an old soul).
Every chance I got I would tease her about it. They were together for quite a while before I
started asking “When are you going to marry him?” And he had asked her, but she
just was happy like it was. She was 2
for 2 at that point. Two marriages – two
divorces. But over time Michael
won. He became the true love of her life, and she said so.
She was cooking in their kitchen
and singing to the song “Crazy” by Patsy Cline.
Michael came up behind her on his knee, and said something to her like
“Am I crazy to love you?” (I probably got
the words wrong). Of course, she said
yes. I owe a lot of gratitude to Michael
for the way he loved her. Painting her
toenails, driving her to work when it snowed, and just being there for those
long days when working as a COVID nurse was just too much.
Her sister Paula got sick about that time. Paula was diagnosed with liver disease, which
just happens to be what Pauletta had. I
remember her crying because Paula was in such terrible shape. She would go to Paula’s house and help her do
things she couldn’t. Paula, having been her twin, was her lifelong friend – for
every single breath. I can remember when
Paula would call and their voices were EXACTLY alike.
Losing Paula was something I honestly worried that Pauletta
would not survive. She truly wanted to
die and said so many times. She would
talk to me about “when I’m gone…” stuff and that scared me. One night she called, crying her heart out
and said “Every time I think of something I want to tell her, I just cry
because I can’t. I’ve lost my
sister!” I told her to consider me her
sister and call me anytime she even thought of Paula.
During the months after that we talked a lot more
often. I’d text her during the day and
I’d get “I’m at work. Call you later.” And she’d call me and I’d send her a
preset message. But often, when we had a
chance we’d call the other back before the end of the day. We wanted to be there for each other, and we
were. I remember her going through
Paula’s laptop and finding so many pictures.
She’d send me some, and she’d cry when I called her about them. And we’d talk till the tears went away. I could never leave her crying, and she
wouldn’t leave me crying either.
I’ve seen those little trinkets several times that say
something like ‘sisters at heart – not by birth’. She truly was that.
Pauletta always loved dogs.
That’s why I was so surprised when she got a bird instead. His name is Pedro and he’s a cockatiel. She hasn’t shocked me many times in this life
- but a bird - that was a shock! About
that time we got our little dog, Lollipop.
I’d call and talk to her about my
dog, and she’d talk about her bird. Then
someone found a little chihuahua on the side of the road, and knowing she once
had one, they brought it to her. His
name is Peanut and he’s a little fella with big personality. She really loved him, even though she would
often complain about his puppy ways, LOL!
I remember Don and I going to see her and Michael after they moved to
Benton and taking Lollipop. Peanut was
all about being Lollipop’s ‘boyfriend’, and she was scared to death!
It wasn’t long after that when she would call I’d notice
something she called “Nanny Belle Syndrome” after one of her ancestors. She would just forget things – like important
things, and things that we’d talked about before. It wasn’t like her, but we were both getting
old.
We’d talked for years about going to the nursing home
together. It would have to be a nice one
– one that didn’t smell like pee – she would tell me. And I would tell her that when she got old,
I’d steal her desert at the nursing home and tell her she ate it. With “Nanny Belle Syndrome” she’d never know
the difference! LOL! After a while, I
got to believing we would make it to a home together. Me being 7 years older than her, I never
expected her to go first. Never until
the early part of 2020.
In early 2020 she sent me a photo of her legs after she’d
worked a twelve-hour shift. Her ankles
and toes were purple, and her legs were swollen like an overfilled
balloon. I didn’t think much about it
except to tell her to stay off her feet (lol, she was the nurse…but I needed to
mother her when she hurt, that’s what we did).
As COVID went on she would call me and talk about the 3
layers of clothes she had to wear when working the COVID ward, and the face
mask and shield. She was miserable,
sweating all day, coming home with a heat rash, and her skin would be sore from
it. Some days she would call me and tell
me about the patient she had to watch die.
I remember the last one I heard of was an older man that had no one. He had no relatives or friends. She sat there with him and held his hand when
he died. It really touched her that
time.
When I caught COVID I called up my COVID BFF Nurse and asked
what to do. She told me what to take and
would call and check on me. I got over
it in the normal number of days. It was
nice to have her checking up on me. I
always knew she loved me. We’d never
hang up the phone without saying, “I love you.” And “I love you too.”
I’m horrible at calling people though. After being on the phone all day long at
work, I just don’t want to be on a phone.
She called me one time – it was in 2021 – and I saw it was her. I answered, “Hey what’s up?” And she said
loudly “YOU SUCK AS A BEST FRIEND! DO YOU KNOW THAT?” She was right too. Not until after she was gone do I realize
that I didn’t appreciate our relationship enough. I didn’t appreciate her enough. After that I started setting reminders to
call her, and would. I’m glad she said
that to me when she did.
During that time she was still forgetting conversations we
had and small things, still swelling up, and then one day told me she was
having tremors so bad in her hands she couldn’t sign out at work. I’d tried for more than a year to get her to
go to her doctor. For goodness’s sake,
she worked with them! The straw that
broke this camel’s back was a text she sent me one day. Her BP had gotten to something like
190/100. I scolded her for not going to
a doctor then, and she said she was going to keep a record of her BP and then
go see the doctor. It was months later
she finally gave into going to the doctor.
Fast forward to July when she finally went. Her doctor did some lab work and sent her
home, only to get the results and have her admitted to the hospital for more
lab work later that week. Then he scheduled her for a liver biopsy.
She went into the hospital on 8/18/2021 for the biopsy. Once she was out, she called. She told me “I’m not going to make it.” And
then told me that her stomach was swelled up and hard like a rock, and that she
didn’t feel good, she was weak. I cried
and told her right then “Don’t you die on me!”
When she hung up she said the usual, “I love you!” and I answered “I
love you too! Call me when you can.”
Later that night they took her back into surgery and found
three liters of blood pooled in her stomach.
And yes, she had liver disease too.
They kept her under meds for pain for days after that. She had a mid-line incision from her
breastbone past her navel. She was in
pain. A couple of days later and they
intubated her and put her on a ventilator.
She was in ICU and I couldn’t go see her. Her husband Michael kept me updated with her
status as the nurses and doctors would call him. They were giving her blood, and
platelets. The second week they cut back
the pain meds trying to wake her up. A few days before she passed they started
dialysis on her, and it seemed to be a turning point. The nurse said she was nodding her head in
answer to questions. I was so happy to
hear that – just elated! Then the next
day I heard that her eyes were still closed, but her eyes were moving. I got even more excited. My friend was coming back – she’d be coming
home I thought. I knew she’d have to
have a liver transplant and possibly be on dialysis, but she’d be there. She’d still be there.
In the early morning hours of September 1, I got a phone
call from Michael. He said “This is
it. She’s in cardiac arrest.” Pauletta had a DNR, so we knew they couldn’t
do anything at that point. I cried in
those hours, prayed, and begged God, and finally fell asleep. Not long after that I got the second call,
“Pauletta went to be with Jesus at 2:54 AM.”
I was numb at that point. It
didn’t seem real. I worked the next day
to keep my mind off it, but in the afternoon hours, I couldn’t think of
anything else. And that’s continued for
over a week now.
Tuesday afternoon will be her visitation service. I’ll have one more chance to look on her
face. But I know she’s not there. It’s just a body, and empty body. Her soul is with Jesus, and one day I will be
too. I can just see her standing at the
gate when I come in and saying “Well damn, it took you long enough!”. To which I’ll reply “Shut-up woman! I told you
not to smoke!”.
She would tell me when I got onto her for smoking, “I’m going
in the rapture!” This past week while
reading about the rapture I saw there were two flights out. The dead in Christ will rise first, and then
those that are living will be taken into the clouds too. I just wish I’d had the change to answer her
“I’m going in the rapture!” with “Yeah, but do you want the early flight or the
late one, huh?” That’s just the way we
were.
I love you Pauletta.
Always will.
