Month: May 2025

On Tuesday, April 22nd, my wife died. She hadn’t eaten anything in six days and was living on a few juice popsicles in the days prior to that. The last few days were a blur due to my lack of sleep, but I will recount what I can.

As always, this blog is more for me than for anyone else.

My father-in-law arrived in Idaho on the same date as my last update, Sunday April 13^th so I will pick up the story from there.

He was here about an hour and then pulled me aside and said I don’t think she will make it to the end of the week. I told him that I would call the children. I sent out the “Bat signal.” Those who have seen the vintage 1960’s television show will get the reference. The eldest and her husband arrived the following day (Monday) and the middle child on Tuesday. Junior didn’t arrive until Sunday (Easter).

Monday, my wife (on oxygen at the time) got out of bed and refused offers of help to go from the bedroom to the couch in the living room. This was a distance of about 25 feet. As she neared the couch, she did a face-plant on the floor. The O2 line in her nose ripped open both nostrils. Blood was gushing from both sides of her nose. We stopped the bleeding by rolling up tissue and shoving it into both sides of her nose. Later she developed bruising around her right eye and nose. She looked like she had been in an MMA fight. Had she not quit taking blood thinners a week before, this would have been a disaster.

As I said, food consumption was about zero from this point forward. Once the daughter and spouse arrived, the son-in-law did make a food run. They bought mom sugar free popsicles! My wife took about one bite, and she was done.  Yuck. That was the last solid food or food of any kind that she ever ate. Why in the hell anyone would think of buying sugar-free popsicles when you know these were the only calories she was getting is beyond stupid.

Anyway, the daughter and hubby did rent a car, so they went the next day to the airport to pick up the middle child.

After her fall, the wife was using a mask for oxygen. My wife has very labored breathing. She could say only a word or two and then would have to pause before trying to say another word. As the week went on, she began using hand signals to communicate.

Her SPO2 (blood oxygen saturation) began dropping. Normal readings are 95 to 99 percent. Hers was in the 80’s for a few days and then fell to the 70’s. Just for reference, a blood oxygen reading of 75 is the same as basecamp at Mt Everest (~17,500 ft above sea level). In her last few days, all readings without O2 were between 72 and 77.

Per the Internet, you should call 911 if you have a reading below 90. Readings like my wife’s begin to cause organ and brain failure after five minutes. On Friday or Saturday, she decided to refuse any more O2.

On Saturday, Sunday and Monday nights, I stayed up with her. Saturday night she was up from about 1 AM until just after 4. That night, I distinctly remember her saying, “Do all you do”

And me responding, “to the glory of God.”

This is something we said to our son every day before he went to school; up until we knew of his open rebellion against God in his last year of high school.

It was her heartfelt belief and one she tried to instill in our son. I know I cried when she said it. As it turned out, for the final time.

On Sunday night she was up from 1:30 AM until about 3. On Monday night I was up with her all night.

Her last night went something like this: She wanted to move from the hospital bed to the wheelchair about 11:30 PM. She said that she wanted to go outside. I wheeled her to the sliding glass door and then opened it. Per our weather station, it was 34 degrees outside. I told her it was too difficult for me to move the wheelchair outside. We looked out for a few minutes, and I remember closing the sliding door. Together we looked at the view. I said to her:

“There is our swing.”

“There is our deck.”

“There is our apple tree. “

“There is our yard.”

“There is our levee.”

“There is our town.”

“There are the stars.”

In her weak voice she said, “I am ready to die.”

I cried.

We then moved to the couch. I had to help her from the wheelchair to the couch. This was not too difficult since she had lost over 160 pounds during the course of this four-year cancer ordeal. I stayed with her. Sometimes I tried to give her medicine, sometimes I rubbed her back (the cancer in her bones and muscles caused her much pain; especially in her lower back), sometimes I was just her pillow. That was her favorite thing, just resting in my arms. Her breathing was labored. You could hear junk in her lungs that she was unable to cough it up. About 5:30 AM, her dad came into the house. I gave him a brief turnover and then went to bed.

The next thing I knew, he was frantically calling for me. I went into the Livingroom, and he said she is dying now. She would take a breath and then nothing would happen for about twenty seconds and then she would gasp again, followed by another long pause. After a few minutes of this process being repeated. She was very still. Tears welled up in my eyes. I told her that I loved her. She gasped again and then was still. A huge tear came from the corner of her eye and dripped down the side of her nose. Upon seeing the tear, I knew two things with certainty, first, that she loved me, and second, that she was dead. As this was happening, I glanced at my watch. It was 6:46 AM on April 22^nd.

Later I was looking through her phone and noticed that she had sung at Carnegie Hall in New York City on April 22^nd 2024. Yep, one year to the day from singing at Carnegie Hall she had died. Her death was three weeks to the day from entering hospice. At the time it didn’t seem so, but her death was rather quick.

Below are quotes from things that Sheryl had written about her cancer journey.

The first is an excerpt from a text thread with ladies at our church that were praying for her.

“Reading through all this, it struck me that suffering can lead to contentment and grace.  Bill will sometimes sit down beside me as I am coughing or “suffering.” He will rub my back and say, “Poor Sheryl! My poor wife…!  I stop him and say, “Honey, I’m am NOT poor! I’m so blessed! I have God, You, and so much support. It is amazing to feel His love in my life.”

“Suffering brings us to an acknowledgment of the wonderful blessings of His grace.”

The next is a dream that she had back in February. In our 21 years of marriage, she only wrote down two dreams. This was the second.

My Dream 02/25/25.

I was standing with Bill and Dad and several other family members under a wooden gazebo surrounded by huge oak trees. It reminded me of the area around the Orinda house. I had my Jeep keys in my hand, and I got in the car and drove away to go to a Women’s clothing store tucked up in a heavily wooded fern-filled garden canyon. I had to park in a strange spot that was up a large branch of a tree.

The store was filled with many dresses and I picked a pretty floral one easily and put it on. I walked out the other side of the store. The door opened up on to a huge grassy, wildflower speckled lawn. Across the lawn were spread many tables with people all sitting around visiting and talking together. Behind them was some sort of large one story building. My thought immediately went to Grammie and Grandad’s backyard.

I walked onto a clear area of lawn and heard music beginning to play. I realized it was the opening notes of Climb Every Mountain, and I began to sing. My voice was full and perfect. I could feel the notes floating up into a sparkling blue sky as I sang. I knew I was singing to His glory! I knew this was His garden, His house! I hit the high note at the end with such perfect brilliance that it seemed to shimmer. When I finished, I could hear murmurs from the crowd, “That’s Sheryl! She’s here! That’s Nancy’s daughter! She’s Amy and Alvin’s granddaughter!”

I turned and headed further across the lawn where I saw my mom. She gave me a huge hug and said, “That was beautiful! I love you!” I said, “Mom! I can sing again!” She laughed and said, “Of course you can!” We walked over together to a gazebo area similar to the one I left earlier. I could see Bill standing there. I walked up, handed him the keys to the Jeep and said, “You will have to go get the Jeep. I parked it in a strange tree. I love you!”

And I woke up crying happy tears!

In Bonners Ferry, Idaho, we had a public viewing of Sheryl on April 25^th and a funeral on April 26^th. She was transported to Sacramento California on April 29^th and was buried on May 2^nd next to her mother in Elk Grove.

At her funeral service, I read her dream just as it appears above and then read the following.

Remembering Sheryl

By Bill

I used to tell my wife that I married the richest girl that I ever dated. Having all of you here is proof that I was right.

Whenever my wife would complain about something I would reply, “When I get to be your age honey, I’ll find out.” Since I was a year older, this often got her upset, but I really had fun saying it just to get a rise out of her.

Last night we had our final date night. It was called a “public viewing”, but it really wasn’t. It was my last time to see her in the flesh. I wanted to spend one last evening with my bride of almost 22 years. It was bittersweet but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

She didn’t have much to say but that was OK. We remembered the excitement of meeting for the first time, our first kiss, the first time she let me meet her kids, of course this only happened after I had been vetted by a group of her most trusted friends. Then there was the night we went to dinner with Tommy and Kendall, and I proposed to her. It was December 7^th, always a memorable date for us veterans of the US Navy.

We were married on Friday the thirteenth in a little church in Vacaville California. It was a hot June night in two thousand three and everyone was sweating. We took our wedding vows using the Church of England’s 1662 Book of Common Prayer where Sheryl was glad to say that she would “honor and obey until death do us part”. It’s no surprise that Sheryl kept her word. In turn, I promised to love her as Christ loved His Church.

Early on, we had a few rough patches along the way, especially the two miscarriages which were balanced with the joy of her giving birth to our son, James.

It might surprise you to know that I rarely ever called Sheryl by name. She was called by her titles “wife of my youth”, “my bride”, “mommy”, “honey”, “bride of love”, and things like that. In fairness, James was often called “the boy of love” and Bob the dog was our “love dog”. Love was just part of what we did. Oh, behind her back, Sheryl did get called “management” on select occasions, but I think that is allowed by the description of the Proverbs 31 woman.

During our marriage, there were many road trips that we took. Some were just for fun, but many were to find a new place to live outside of California. Our road trips were sometimes over five thousand miles in two weeks. We saw lots of country, but in the end, it came down to Bonners Ferry where we bought two acres of land in 2020. This part of Sheryl’s story most of you know, at least in part.

Last April, Sheryl went with a group from Bonners Ferry and sang at New York’s Carnegie Hall. It was a dream for anyone that loved music as much as she did. A month later she lost her voice and knew something was very wrong. It was then that she learned that the cancer was back with a vengeance. In the next months, Sheryl experienced many rounds of radiation and chemotherapy, but treatment was unsuccessful. Sheryl was placed in hospice care on April first and died three weeks later, ironically her death was on the one-year anniversary of singing at Carnegie Hall.

At the end, just a few short days ago … or was it a lifetime …she was gasping for air. It was clear that each breath might be her last. Crying, I told her that I loved her. She then struggled for one last breath and then the biggest single tear, that I ever saw, came from the corner of her eye and dripped down the side of her nose. When I saw this, I immediately knew two things, she loved me, and she was most certainly gone. It was 6:46 AM.

So, there I was last night, mulling over these and other thoughts. Mostly, I was just missing her. Trust me, I kissed her several times when I thought no one was looking; after all, it was our last date.

In the last few days, everywhere I look and everywhere I go, I see her or some memory of her. In marriage two become one but in death, the opposite happens. The oneness is violently ripped apart.

Today we send my beloved Sheryl off on her final journey, a journey that ends with her body buried next to her mother where she will await the reunion of her soul and body at the end of history. Farewell my bride. It was my great privilege to be married to you and I’d gladly do it over again in a heartbeat.

Only a memorial service remains as part of the farewell tour of my wife and our marriage. What is next is beyond my ability to see. Yes, I have ideas and aspirations of how I might move-on in my life but… I’m old enough to know that what I want and what God has in store for me might be different ideas. Other than organizing the house, I’m not sure what follows. God is good and has a plan. Funny how these words sound familiar. Kinda reminds me of someone I knew.