Greetings from 30,000 feet in the air on Sunday afternoon. Harriet and I are flying back from Denver. It is my second set of long airplane flights this week. It started off well enough, as I attended the AACR meeting in San Diego last weekend, leaving on Friday and returning on Tuesday afternoon. The weather was not idyllic, but the meeting was wonderful. However, we received the sad news that Judy, my daughter-in-law Sarah’s (Ken’s wife) mom, passed away that Sunday.
Judy, who was my age, was a primary care physician in Denver for many years, specializing in women’s health, until her retirement about eight years ago to care for her ailing husband, who died in 2017. She was incredibly bright, thoughtful and sensitive, and was a wonderful writer who had a blog called “Fe-mail Health News.” Starting a few years ago, she began experiencing cognitive decline, punctuated by a series of strokes caused by atrial fibrillation (something she had treated countless times). Her decline accelerated over the past two years. Even with the support of her son and daughter-in-law, who lived nearby, she had to be moved to assisted living near Ken and Sarah about seven months ago, and her decline continued to accelerate.
Sarah was a simply remarkable support for her mom — loving, fiercely protective and consistently doing anything that was in Judy’s best interest throughout her tragic illness. I have always felt that adversity reveals character, and I am filled with admiration for Sarah, whose grief can be properly tempered by the knowledge that she gave her mother the soft landing she deserved.
Judy’s memorial service was held in Denver on Saturday. Harriet and I made quick arrangements and flew out on Friday afternoon, and will return later on Sunday. The service, which was packed with friends, former patients and family, was a testimony to the life Judy had lived, and truly was a celebration of that life.
The eulogies, particularly Sarah’s, were moving, heartfelt and illuminating. In another eulogy from one of her close friends we heard about Judy’s freshman year at Georgetown (she was in the first class of women admitted to the college, and lived in Darnall Hall), and her subsequent transfer to the University of Colorado to complete her undergraduate and medical school degrees. We learned that she and some of her close friends loved to walk through Glover Archbold Park near the campus. We learned about her adventurous spirit, which included a later-in-life fascination with, and apparent great skill in, belly dancing.
Judy raised two wonderful children, and she cared for countless thousands of patients. She made no great discoveries, did not write the Great American Novel, but made the world a better place in so many ways. The final eulogy of the service was given by our 6-year-old granddaughter, Isabelle. Sarah picked her up and asked her what she wanted to say about her JAMA (we think Judy viewed this name as a badge of honor for an internist). Isabelle replied, “She liked to try new things.” Nothing more needed to be said.
I am glad to have known Judy, and I am the better for it.
On a happier note, please consider signing up for and supporting our Walking Warriors, led by our own Jeanne Mandelblatt, who once again will walk to raise money for breast cancer research. It is a wonderful initiative worthy of our participation and support. You can learn more about it on their website.
Make the world a better place this week.
Lou
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