A Woman To Be Admired
Times Picayune 02-1-1996

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If any of you have lost a loved one to cancer you'll understand the angst and
sadness behind this column.

My husband's mother, Bettye, died Jan. 20, after struggling with lymphoma
since it was discovered during surgery in July 1995.

She was the type of person who didn't give up easily and did everything she
could to fight the beast. At 63, she was taking chemotherapy, mega doses of
vitamins, eating all natural foods and foods rich in iron. She even started
making her own fruit and vegetable juices with a juicer we bought her to make
the job easier.

She lost much of her hair from the chemotherapy but, not being a vain person,
seemed to take that OK. We made sure she had her new caps in bright spring
colors.

I know she was more sick than she would ever admit to us - the chemo, like
other drugs she's taken in her life, didn't agree with her. But I truly
believed if anybody could beat the cancer, she could.

Strange thing was, it was the chemotherapy, not the cancer, that was the
culprit in destroying her lungs. And to think that she made the decision to
take chemo mainly for her family, so she could be with them longer.

She was in the hospital since the day after Christmas and never came out. When
she was admitted to the intensive care unit, an eery feeling came over her,
knowing she was in the same room where her sister Dot had died a few years
ago.

But she seemed to get stronger the first three weeks. In fact, she was moved
out of ICU for a few days only to take a turn for the worse the last week.

I know she felt she was in good hands with her doctors, including Frank
Rabito, and her nurses - especially Judy, Claudia and Libby.

I've known Frank, Judy and Claudia each for 20 years, and they kept us totally
informed on what was going on. All three have tender ways with people and I
know did their best to try to help her. They also have big hearts, and Miss
Bettye needed that comfort during her most difficult days.

But modern medicine can't supercede God's plans for anyone, a fact it's taken
me years to understand.

While her death was extremely difficult for everyone to handle, the number of
people who attended the funeral services, who have called and brought over
home-cooked meals, and sent cards and letters has been overwhelming to her
husband, Mac, her sons Mark and Bryan and to me.

Even those who didn't know her, like our neighbors and my son's teacher at
school and his friend's parents, were wonderful.

I'm most proud of my husband, Bryan, who, like his mother, doesn't like to
stand out in public. Yet he delivered the most heart-felt eulogy, many
commented, they have ever heard. He was very close to his mom, and, with the
calming force of our parish priest, the Rev. Al Ernst, he was able to speak
the beautiful words.

As much as I am in public, I don't think I could do what Bryan did. I couldn't
talk for my grandmother four years ago, although I had much to say. I'm not
sure I could do it for my mom, although I encouraged Bryan to express what he
felt about his mom. And, he did it eloquently.

I've found that while life's experiences toughen you somewhat, and make you
more wary of situations and people, they cannot diminish the love and caring
shared between people. Miss Bettye did much for our family, and I appreciated
all her help more than I ever told her. She made my wedding dress - beadwork
and all - and was looking forward to seeing her granddaughter, Greyson, in it
one day. She can be assured Greyson will wear the dress "maw-maw" made.