Final Good Bye

Friday, June 25th was a bittersweet day for me.  I spent precious minutes in the company of my wife before she was cremated.  At the funeral home, a chapel was prepared where she was waiting for me.

When I entered the chapel, she was lying peacefully wearing a hospital gown.  -"Do not worry honey, I brought you a nice dress and flowers".  The funeral director helped me dress my wife for the last time.

The ceremony was a private affair.  Some of our friends and family members sent flowers and cards - I read their messages to her.  For this meeting, I created a bouquet of flowers from her garden and added to it two flowers from each floral arrangement that she received at home. Special privilege was given to her hands and she held two Ingrid Bergman red roses grown in her garden; her hands were beautiful! She looked peaceful, I am happy that the funeral home did a dignified job and I thank them for that.

For her journey, she wore one of her favorite summer dresses. She looked like a sleeping beauty. I felt sad and overwhelmed by grief, but then, all of a sudden, I felt warm and calm inside; was she talking to me? I remained composed looking at her for the rest of the time while we listen to Maria Callas's romantic songs. Only her and me; need no more.

When the clock stroked 12:15 PM, we got her ready for the next step of the ceremony, placed all flowers and cards in her coffin, and transported her some miles west from our city to where the crematorium is. There, the final goodbye, and she became ashes.

The Diagnosis

Christina's tumor was discovered on the evening of Monday, February 3rd, 2020.  

Early in the day, she called me at my work to tell me that she could not concentrate on her work, that it was extremely difficult to put a sentence together.  I thought that she was feeling too much pressure to close difficult business deals that she had been working on for the past few months.  To help her relax, I suggested taking the afternoon off and prepare for the evening Toastmaster's meeting, where she was going to deliver a speech - "go easy on yourself Christina, it is just a deal".

Toastmasters was Christina's favorite activity.  She was an exceptional speaker.  Her aspiration was to become a professional speaker, go on tours and enjoy her life doing what she felt really passionate about.  I had seen Christina speak at different events and enjoyed her talks immensely.  Her voice intonations, always calm and confident, body language perfect.  She always had something funny and personal to say in her speeches which gave her a good repour with her audience.  She used to collect little evaluation notes handed to her at the end of sessions as small trophies: "well done Christina!", "could not fault on anything tonight", "Enjoyed the story and the jokes!", "Cannot wait until you speak again!".  She was delightful as a toastmaster!  

For her February 3rd speech, she had written the material over the weekend and had practiced several times.  Every Sunday afternoon she would disappear into our bedroom and practice her speeches in privacy.  The rest of us would go about our day but we could listen through the walls her muffled voice and would know that mom was practicing.  What a sweet routine!  However, that particular weekend, I had noticed that she had been restless and attributed her state to the pressures that she had been experiencing at work with her clients.

That Monday night, I arrived home late from my office, and by that time Christina had already left for her meeting.  Monday was always a busy weekday in our family: Christina had toastmaster's and Raquel, my youngest daughter had "Army Cadets".  Christina would often drop off Raquel at cadets and I would pick her up at the end at around 9:15 PM.  When Christina arrived home from her meeting I greeted her as usual at the door, but that night  the first thing she said as soon as she opened the door was:  - "Is my face drooping?", "No, cannot say it is, hang on let me turn on the light".  In the light of the kitchen, I could see my wife's concerned face and yes, the right side of her face was drooping.  "They told me at Toastmaster's that I could be having a stroke, but perhaps it is nothing".  - "Christina, let's go to Emergency and let them rule it out for you.  Yes, perhaps it is nothing".  we left for the hospital but the anguish was already mounting in our minds.

When we arrived at the hospital she was seen by one of the ER doctors immediately.  After a neurological assessment, a CT scan was ordered.  Once the scan had been examined by a radiologist, the ER doctor went to see us and asked us to accompany him into a more secluded and comfortable area.  We started to walk down the hallway and followed the doctor until he stopped at a door with the label "Family Room".   He asked us to enter, and inside we found very comfortable chairs.  After inviting us to sit he delivered the news:

-"Christina, we have found a mass in your brain.  It is a tumor, most likely cancer".

The Greatest Loss

On June 21, 2021, at 9:20 PM the light in the eyes of my wife, Christina Iren Horvath, ceased to shine.  Her family was with her: our two daughters, Livia and Raquel, and me.  She will be greatly missed; she was a beacon in our lives.

While she was taking her last breaths of life Raquel was playing her clarinet, and Livia was comforting her telling her that we were there, that she was not alone, I was holding her hand.  In the last second, I felt her grip getting slightly tighter, then a slow release as two big pearls came down her cheeks and her breathing stopped.  I think that she was sad that she was leaving us, that we will miss her.

I am very proud of our girls and I know that Christina, as a new angel in the firmament, is also proud of them.

We lost Christina to Glioblastoma (GBM) a very aggressive type of brain cancer.  All GBMs types are grade IV and, as of today, there is no cure for it.

The objective of this blog is to honor my family and the memory of my wife Christina.  I will write about some highlights of her journey since she was diagnosed in February 2020.  I will also write about the things I wanted to do, things we did, our lives together, how we met, and our story, how it matured and reached divine heights.

I used to tell my wife that I dreamt of her when I was a child and that is the reason she existed, and I existed to accompany her through every road she was going to take no matter how sweet or difficult.

Perhaps this blog will help me heal her loss, but that is not why I am writing it.  I write because that way I bring her alive again in my mind.  My children will read it and will learn about their mother and will understand the way they are today because she forged them that way.

I will write it all