Peggy and Ray: A Story of True Love: A Resurrection Sunday Repost

This is a story of love. True, honest-to-God, death- do-us-part-love. You know the kind of love I mean, the kind that we all hope to find one day, and that some never do. 

This is the story of Peggy and Ray.


I met Peggy and Ray when Peggy was sent to the Nursing Home following a massive stroke. She was admitted to slowly die in the safety and peace of a Catholic Nursing home, surrounded by caring Sisters and staff. She had a brain embolism and had undergone surgery to relieve the pressure on her brain, leaving only skin covering a large portion of her brain. She was bald as a billiard ball, and in a coma, being fed through a tube in her stomach.  We could watch her brain pulse with each heartbeat.

Accompanying Peggy was her husband, Ray, a tiny, soft spoken man, of about 5'3, wearing a jacket, tie and an Ivy cap. We were amused at this little man's proper attire in the casual atmosphere of the home. We would soon learn that this was his every day wear.

Ray was a gentleman of the first order. He would rise when a female entered Peggy's room, insisted on opening doors, and called each of us "Ma'am". We quickly fell in love with this gentle man, and he was certain that his beloved Peggy would wake up. 

On the first day following Peggy's admission, Ray showed up at 10:00 am, as nattily dressed as the day before.  He sat at Peggy's bedside throughout the day, leaving the room only when the Nurses shooed him out to provide care for his wife.

He would sit with her, moving a chair as close as he could to her bedside, and speak softly to Peggy throughout the day, holding her hand all the while.     It became a daily ritual that we would find him, with his bald head lying on the bed beside hers, napping, holding her hand lovingly. . From his perch on the adjoining chair, we were certain he would wake up stiff as a board, but he never complained.    It became a daily "Aww, isn't that sweet" moment for all of us.

However, we were concerned on how Ray would take it when Peggy finally expired.This woman was clearly his life. Through listening to him regale her with tales of their life together, vacation stories, children's mishaps, and other more mundane occurrences, we learned what true love and devotion really are.  

We needn't have worried about him.

Within a month of Peggy's admission, we started seeing signs of life. Not only did her hair begin to grow out in snow white ringlets, she was moving. First a toe, then her hand, and finally her eyes.

After she awakened, she was determined to go home with her man.  Although she was severely weakened on her left side, and had speech and swallowing problems, nothing could stop her. She said she had never spent a night in their forty five year marriage in a separate bed, until this, and she wanted to sleep beside her beloved once again. 

She worked with Physical, Occupational and Speech therapists every day, and we would see Ray lovingly stretching her limbs and talking sweetly to her as the days wore on.

Days wore into weeks, and those into months, but after six months, Peggy was indeed ready to go home, albeit in a wheelchair with round-the-clock caregivers. In that time, Ray never missed one day of visiting. he was a fixture from ten till six every single day.

About three months following her discharge, we were flabbergasted to see them return to visit. Peggy was WALKING! She used a walker, but walking on her own nonetheless. She was wearing a bright red pant suit in celebration. Her hair had grown out into a brilliantly white mass of curls, and she was beaming. Of course, her devoted mate was bedside her, beaming as well. 

They thanked us all for our care to Peggy during her illness, but we knew that we had nothing, or at least very little, to do with it. Ray's love pulled her through.
I believe that as fact.

This darling couple had three more years together before another stroke saw Peggy at our doors once again. This time, we knew there would be no going home. Peggy lived for another five years after her final stroke, but she never woke up. She was fed through a feeding tube, and had all her needs met by our loving staff. Ray was at her side every day. He even brought a recliner from home, so he could nap comfortably beside her every afternoon, all the while holding her hand in his.   

For five long years, this man weathered snowstorms, heat, and his own ailments, yet he was there every single day. He sent her massive flower arrangements on her birthday, and every wedding anniversary. He would hold a rose or carnation up to her nose, trying to elicit a response, but alas, she never awakened.      

About three years after Peggy passed on, Ray came to us once again, as a patient. It seems that shortly after Peggy died, Ray's memory started to fail.

His son knew right where he belonged. Ray lived with us for another four years, as his memory slipped further and further away. Even as his memories drifted further and further into oblivion, he insisted on wearing his necktie, opening our doors for us, and till the day he died his eyes would still light up whenever we mentioned his Sweet Peggy.


That, my friends, is love.