Healing

What Loss?

by Stephen A. Peterson
07/22/25
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What Loss?

©2025

by

Stephen A. Peterson

Since my beautiful wife transitioned to be with her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and people learned of my new status of “widower”, I am told with endearment, “I am sorry for your loss.” I accept these statements with grace and understanding as part of the society and culture of many, if not most, people in the United States.

However, I have learned from listening to many Christian ministers from several denominations that led me to conclude that my beloved wife is NOT lost. I have learned to believe that my Maura is walking in her NEW LIFE, with her/my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, in perfect happiness and praying for me from above.

Since her transition, many teachings I learned in my formative years in Roman Catholic elementary and high school came rushing back to me to lift my spirits in the face of grief and mourning.

I cannot recall what grade I was in, but I have asked the question, “Why am I here, Lord? Why was I born?” The answer came to me quickly, “To know Me! To love Me! To serve Me with your whole mind, your whole soul, and with your whole spirit!” I do remember it coming from that ugly purple Baltimore Catechism.

As Maura became sicker and sicker, the Seven Sacraments came to mind, especially the Sacrament of the Sick and Dying—the Sacrament of Extreme Unction. So, every hospital Maura was transferred to, I called the local Catholic Church to come quickly to bless, pray, hear the confession of, and give her the Holy Eucharist if she could receive it. Three times this request was made, a priest appeared in less than twenty minutes, even as far away as twenty-six miles!

From early February 2022 to June 2022, Maura was moved three times to three different hospitals. At each hospital, I was allowed to stay 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, which I did. I did so because I wanted her to see that I would never leave her alone EVER!!!

I told her constantly, “I love YOU! I AM HERE FOR YOU, SWEETHEART!” Her eyes, her tears, her smiles told me “I love you, too!” whenever she could not speak words.

On June 2, 2022, at 4:05 AM, Maura opened her eyes, gathering whatever remaining strength she had to say softly, “Momma! Momma! Momma! Mario, Anak! Mario, Anak! Where are you, Anak?” and breathed her last as the sun peeked through the Eastern Oklahoma sky.

The only thing I could do was to kneel, pick up, and hold her lifeless body close to my heart, kiss her for the last time, and cry as the hospital staff quietly walked away without saying a word.

The worst day of my life had just begun! Nothing mattered! NOTHING! I did not blame God. I blamed myself for not taking better care of her. Although I had taken every college course in death and dying in psychology offered by two universities I attended, visited with and attended seminars and workshops in thanatology offered by Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross and Dr. Earl Grollman, and other experts in the field, nothing seemed to offer comfort at that moment except…God! Against everything I ever learned, I went home for the rest of the week, never ate anything, seldom drank anything, and prayed and cried to sleep. The only break came from the Deacon from St. Benedict Catholic Church, who saved my life as I did not care if I lived or died. I concluded that Maura, from heaven, saved me.

So, my Maura is not lost. She has become a Prayer Warrior for me to keep me on the straight and narrow road to her, and more importantly, to Jesus Christ, who is both waiting for me! Grazie a Dio!