Family

GOOD GRIEF

by Patricia Gable 
07/14/25
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Good Grief

by Patricia Gable

     Bob and Bessie met at the USO club in 1941. He was a handsome Navy man whose beautiful tenor voice would earn him free drinks at the bar whenever he sang. She was a shapely farm girl with porcelain skin and a secretarial job in the city. They fell in love and married.

     In 1949, after unsuccessful attempts at getting pregnant, they adopted a baby girl. That’s when I came into the picture. Twenty-one years later, I married, and they moved to Florida. 

     Even with his heart attacks and her increasing dementia, it didn’t matter the challenge, for they were together, always holding hands. 

     In 2000, it became necessary to move them back to their hometown, one mile away from me. Giving up the sunny climate, a beautiful home, and friends didn’t matter because they were together. They settled into an assisted living apartment and for two years they enjoyed rides in the country and dinners with me and my family. 

     Bob wept when it was necessary to put Bessie in a dementia unit attached to their apartment complex. He visited her every day. She always remembered him, and they still held hands. 

     Then came the week in June in which God could not have choreographed more perfectly. On Friday Bessie got her hair done and she looked like a beautiful doll with snow white hair and pure skin. 

     I decided to surprise Bob by having her join us for dinner at my house where he was waiting. When he saw Bessie, his face lit up. We enjoyed a lovely dinner, laughing and talking. Bob drove Bessie home and ushered her back to her room, and he went to his apartment.

     At 2:00am, I got a call that Bob had a massive heart attack and was clinging to life in the hospital. Bessie was not told. 

     Sitting with him the next day at the hospital he assured me that he was not ready to die. He asked that I not tell Bessie so she wouldn’t worry. 

     I visited Bessie, my mom, later that day. She was sitting with another lady on a porch swing on the protected patio of the facility. They were happily sharing stories and swore that they had known each other since high school.

     That night, I received another phone call. Bessie died in her sleep.  

     The doctor advised me to tell Bob because he was hanging on for her. 

     I whispered in my dad’s ear, “Daddy, Momma passed away in her sleep last night.” 

     A tear slid down his cheek. He died that night.

     The caskets sat side by side at the funeral home. Bessie had on a red pant suit and Bob had on a black suit and a red tie to match her outfit. They were still together after all.

     Bob did not have to get the phone call in the middle of the night that his cherished wife had died. Bessie did not have to see her beloved husband suffer. Neither had to deal with a loss that certainly would have been overwhelming. They did not have to go on alone. 

     It is said that dealing with grief can come in stages: shock, emotional release, panic, guilt, or anger just to name a few. My parents left me at the same time. I should have been devastated. But this grief was different. Am I sad sometimes? Sure. Do I miss them? Of course, so much. But I also understand and totally believe that God and his angels had a plan this time for Bob and Bessie…and for me. 

     So, when asked what stage of grief I’m in, all I can say is “GOOD grief!”