Lessons in Love

By Karen Ann Anderson

Dying of cancer, Marie became a teacher and a missionary to those who cared for her.

About seven years ago, Marie Holley and Margaret Adamson moved into our ward in North Dakota. Both had doctoral degrees in nursing, and they had been hired to design a graduate degree program in the College of Nursing at the University of North Dakota. It was a challenging task, and they began it with vigor. We felt fortunate to have two such talented people in our ward.

Then, just six months after moving into our midst, Marie found that she had a rare form of cancer. Doctors felt she had only a few months to live.

But the doctors did not know about Marie’s strong desire to live. For almost three years, she fought her disease with her will and with every medical treatment doctors could prescribe. Finally, she grew so ill that she had to retire from work.

When Marie became too weak to take care of herself at home alone, she hired someone to come in to make lunch, give her baths, and do housekeeping tasks. I was Marie’s visiting teacher, and my companion and I helped in every way we could. Her friend Margaret came every day after work to be her night nurse.

In the spring of 1983, Margaret became ill from her long hours of working and caring for Marie. At this point, the Relief Society became involved. We set up a schedule, and Relief Society sisters faithfully signed up to come and stay with Marie during the day—every day. Until then, we had thought of compassionate service as something we did in an occasional time of need. Now it became an important part of our daily lives.

Doctors Could Offer No More Help

As the summer went on, Marie’s health grew worse. When doctors could offer no more help, Marie became eligible for the Hospice program. The Hospice is an organization of volunteers from the community who give basic nursing care for terminally ill patients who wish to die at home. The Hospice volunteers took over the nursing, so we Relief Society sisters organized ourselves to be Marie’s home companions.

At first, the Hospice volunteers were uneasy about having the Relief Society sisters help Marie. They had found that well-meaning friends of the terminally ill are often unreliable. Our Relief Society sisters were also uneasy about working with the women from the Hospice. In our area, many people think of the Church as a cult, and we wondered what the volunteers would think of us and our beliefs.

We also had other concerns. Our Relief Society had never been asked to care for a dying sister. Many sisters wondered what they should say and do. So we prayed. We held meetings and taught the sisters what to do in an emergency and how to give pain-killing shots.

We began to live by the calendar. Often we didn’t know the volunteer who would be on the shift before or after us, but Marie would always introduce us. The Relief Society sisters and the Hospice volunteers first became acquaintances and then friends. The Hospice women marveled at how busy we were—many of us were young with small children—and that we all still came to spend time with Marie. The volunteers began to admire us.

After several months, Marie became suddenly worse and went into a coma. Our bishop, who was also a physician, notified Marie’s family. The Relief Society sisters and Hospice volunteers flocked to Marie’s bedside to say goodby and to tell Marie how much we had grown to love her. It was an emotional time as we prepared to let her go.

But Marie didn’t die. Two days later, she came out of the coma. She hadn’t been ready to go, she said.

Some of the Hospice volunteers expressed anger and frustration. In a meeting with the Relief Society sisters, they asked, “Why does God allow her to suffer on and on and on?” They also asked us how we could be so calm as we watched Marie’s great mind and life being wasted.

This gave us an opportunity to explain something about the plan of salvation. The Hospice volunteers sat silently as we told about why we are here, the purpose of our lives, and the promise of what lies before us in eternity. We explained that death is just another beginning, not an end. The meeting ended on a thoughtful, spiritual tone.

“Goodbye for Now”

Several months later, after fourteen months of our constant care, Marie finally died. Her funeral was not a sad occasion. Marie had not wanted it to be. Instead, it was a calm, peaceful “goodbye for now,” with the assurance that we would see her again.

Most of the people who attended the funeral were not Latter-day Saints. Many were Hospice volunteers. Many others were from the university. The audience listened attentively as the principles of the gospel were explained, as Marie had requested. After the funeral, I heard many interesting comments:

“Why, it was the most beautiful funeral I’ve been to! It was so well organized, I had to keep reminding myself that all you people were volunteers.”

“I remembered all the things Marie has told me before, and it all fit together. Your beliefs are so logical.”

“I wish I could really believe as you do. No wonder you feel so comforted.”

“I’ve lived in this town for many years, yet I’ve never had the courage to come into your church. I am so glad I came today.”

“I’ve been reading the books Marie gave me, and I was so interested to hear where we came from and why we are here.”

We discovered that Marie had given each nonmember who had cared for her a copy of the Book of Mormon and a copy of Elder LeGrand Richard’s book, A Marvelous Work and a Wonder, with a challenge to read them both. “After I’m gone, someone will come and explain them to you and answer your questions,” she had told her friends.

During Marie’s illness, seventy-five people had helped—forty-five Relief Society sisters, twenty-two Hospice volunteers, and eight part-time employees. Through caring for Marie, so many strangers have become friends. She has planted the seeds of the gospel in the hearts of many people. Now it is up to us—her friends—to nourish those seeds so that the Lord might reap the harvest.

Illustrated by Cary Henrie