For Her Husband, the Presence of the Priest Superseded Anything Else

It was sometime in January of 2020 that Shirley, age 87, began feeling “not right.”  Shirley and her husband Lee agreed it was time to see the doctor.

Shirley was having a bit of trouble breathing, had a slight cough, and was experiencing fatigue.  Shirley knew in her heart what she was going to hear from the doctor. When the doctor walked into the exam room, he and Shirley’s eyes momentarily locked.  Shirley said, “The cancer is back, right?”

The doctor nodded.  Shirley’s lung cancer, in remission for more than 10 years, had returned. As days turned to months, Shirley’s health kept slipping downward.

Lee, a healthy, active, 96-year-old, World War II veteran, and Shirley, did everything together. And the first thing they did every day was to go to morning Mass. But things changed rapidly as Shirley’s health deteriorated.

Hospice

Lee realized he was unable to care for Shirley by himself and he was beginning to feel helpless.  By the beginning of September, Shirley could no longer sit up or eat by herself.  That was when Hospice arrived on the scene.

Hospice wanted to move Shirley to the Hospice center. Lee was horrified at the prospect. He told the nurse in charge, “My wife and I promised each other we would never let anyone take either of us to any kind of home. She must stay here with me. Please, please, do that for me?”  Hospice, realizing Shirley’s time was not far away, agreed. They placed a hospital bed in the family room. Hospice workers were now coming in several times a day.

In addition to being devout Catholics, Lee and Shirley are neighbors and close friends of mine. I became personally involved in helping them early in summer. My most important function was that of being an Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion. Nothing was more important to them than my bringing Jesus in the Eucharist to them, especially on Sunday.

The end of September and the beginning of October seemed to blend together. At about five o’clock in the afternoon on October 8 my phone rang. Brenda, a close friend of Lee and Shirley’s, was calling to say that Shirley had passed a few minutes earlier.

I had promised Lee that no matter what time of day or night it was when Shirley passed, I would make sure a priest would come to pray over her. I immediately called the church.  Our church has a phone menu, and if you press #8, you get the emergency line to the priest. I left a message and headed over to Lee’s house.

Our priests are all-important to us

Shirley was lying halfway on her side. Her head was bowed down a bit, and her eyes were half-open. She had a simple smile on her face allowing her to appear peacefully beautiful. I called the church again, and left another message.  Then I gathered those willing around Shirley’s bed and we said a Chaplet of Divine Mercy for her.

Upon finishing the Chaplet, I called the church a third time. As soon as I hung up the phone, I received a call.  It was Father Kevin, our pastor. He was 25 miles away, in Tampa, at a convocation of priests and the bishop. Father Vijay, our associate priest, was with him. It would take Fr. Kevin almost an hour to get to Lee’s house at that time of day.  The problem was the funeral home had already sent their van to pick up Shirley, and I was told they could not wait for the priest.

As Catholics, when death invades our lives, our priests become all-important to us. We want a priest present. We want our loved ones to receive the last sacraments. Nothing else matters. Nothing was more important to Lee at that moment than the priest being there to pray over Shirley. Father Kevin said he could leave right away and, if traffic was light, he could make it in 45 minutes. I said, “Okay, Father. See you when you get here.”

It is interesting how things can work out.

Blessed by a Priest

Fifteen minutes later, the funeral van pulled up. Father Kevin was still at least a half-hour away. One of the hospice nurses came over to me and told me that they had another stop to make and could not wait. It was time to get bold.

I walked over to the van driver and told him the situation. The guy told me he was sorry, but he could not wait for more than fifteen minutes. My response must have been spontaneous because after I said what I said, I was surprised that I had said it.  I looked the driver in the eye and said, “The only way anyone gets near that woman before the priest does is over my dead body.” The driver nervously smiled and said, “Okay, okay, I get it. I understand.”

Father Kevin arrived within the 45 minute time frame. We all gathered around, and calmness filled the room as Father prayed over Shirley and blessed her. Lee stood next to him, holding his wife’s lifeless hand, tears coming from his eyes. As Shirley was removed from the house, Lee stopped by the gurney and held her hand one last time.  Sobbing softly, he bent down and kissed her goodbye. She was still smiling.

St. Paul speaks to us about our bodies in 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 – “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God, and that you are not your own? For you have been purchased at a price. Therefore glorify God in your body.}

Lee Yunker made sure that his wife’s body was honored, respected, and blessed by a priest. It was his final act as her husband. His act of faith is an example for us all.