God's Country

Remembering Irene.
A true story of true faith.

*

In July 1995, a medical doctor informed my dear wife, Irene, that she had only six months to live. Her seventeen-year battle with cancer was coming to an end.

I was devastated! So was our only son, Adam, and our lovely daughter-in-law, Tina. But Irene was about to teach us an unforgettable lesson in how to exercise faith in our Lord Jesus Christ! Even though she was fighting to keep mobile, Irene insisted that we make one last visit to our home city of Belfast, to visit family and loved ones. Irene fought tooth and nail to function as normally as possible during the trip. Although everyone knew she was ill, they were not aware of the short length of time available to her. We thoroughly enjoyed our time in Ireland, and her relentless courage had made it possible! Two days before returning home she developed a pain in her leg.
X-rays later revealed that the bone cancer had flared up once more and she would have to undergo radium treatment. Still she battled on, returning to a near normal lifestyle despite the pain and lack of mobility. It was during this time that she decided to plan her funeral. We went together to the funeral parlour, and met Anthea, who had to ask some probing questions like `who's funeral were we arranging?' Irene told her, `It's mine!'
Obviously shocked, but still very helpful, Anthea guided us through the various arrangements to be made, and explained the range of coffins available.
Practical as always, Irene asked to see one. It was a very strange feeling standing there and listening to her saying, `I don't like the ones with the panels in the sides, I like the plain ones. What do you think?' It was like choosing an item of clothing in Marks and Spencers! I thought to myself, `What am I doing here?' But this was something Irene just had to do. And I was going to back her up one hundred and ten percent! As we left the funeral parlour, Anthea gave her a hug, and cried!
Next, we visited the local crematorium to ask lots of questions regarding their procedures. Irene decided on the large chapel for the service. She told me then, `You know, I don't like the thought of strangers carrying me into the chapel.' With that, she came up with a list of six names of friends and relatives to be her pallbearers. `And, oh yes!' she said, `Book double time for the service!'

In the coming weeks, as she became increasingly weak and housebound, she began to put small pieces of jewellery into envelopes with messages and the names of the recipients on the front. These were to be given out after her death!
She also arranged all of our personal papers - birth and marriage certificates, medical cards, passports etc., in envelopes with the contents noted on the front.
Eventually she became bedridden, and had to be visited daily by the District Nurses. She soon got things organised around her bed and was still coming up with things that needed to be done. She wrote a letter to our son, Adam. It was to be her last letter, because of her failing strength.
By early December, she was so frail that she needed much more than home care. And so she agreed to go into a local Hospice for a while, probably not realising then that she would never return home! Amazingly, her spirit burned ever brighter. Irene was always positive and fought to function as normally as possible. Even when her voice was too weak for us to hear, she wrote with trembling hand on a clipboard. Finally, she couldn't even manage that.

The 13th of December 1995, was cold, dark and gloomy. I visited Irene at 11:30 am and stayed until 2:45 in the afternoon. As usual, I told her about the weather, what was happening in the news, and all the people who sent their love to her. At one point, as I held her hand and strained to hear what she was trying to say, she seemed to get extra strength from somewhere to say, loudly and clearly, `I am finished!' I replied, `You know Irene, this is not the end, but the beginning!' Then I recited the twenty-third Psalm in her ear, dwelling on the part that says, `Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me Thy rod and Thy staff comfort me!'

Several days before, I had prayed that God would grant her a glimpse of the future, a brief view of His glorious kingdom. On that day, for some strange reason, our usual goodbye procedure changed. Usually I'd say, `See you tomorrow?' And she'd whisper, `Yes'. Then I'd say, `Night, night', and she'd repeat that. And finally `God bless!' But it didn't happen that day. As I bent to kiss her on the forehead, her eyes opened wide and a huge smile spread across her face! It was really amazing because, for several weeks, she couldn't move her lips! Looking back, I hope that was her glimpse of the future!
Two hours later, my beloved Irene died! Or as I like to put it - gained the final victory! Right to the end, she was very courageous, never fearful of death, although she faced it, eyeball to eyeball, every single day. Irene was constantly strong and faithful - waiting on God! A very special example to all who knew her, and now alone, I can only whisper, `Sleep well my love, the victory is yours and the future is glorious!'


Find out what's happened FOUR YEARS LATER


TAKE ME BACK TO THE Gods Country Index Page PLEASE.

Take me back