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Meredith was a remarkable person who left this Earth in December of 2021 at the age of 44. Meredith and I were together for 18 years. She and I were soulmates. She was quiet and reserved, caring and thoughtful. She loved crafting, especially making greeting cards and beaded jewelry. She loved to read and write poetry. She loved music and Herbal Tea.

We met at the AVA Gallery Art Center in Lebanon, NH, at their evening open studio, where people can draw from a live model. She would work in vine charcoal and get it all over her hands, and she would brush the hair from her eyes and get charcoal all over her face in the process. I would joke with her that she was getting more charcoal on her face than the paper. The third time we met at the AVA, I resolved to ask her out to dinner. The model for our session didn't show up, and it looked like the session would be canceled. So I volunteered to model so I wouldn't lose my chance to ask her out. We went to Three Tomatoes in Lebanon, NH. That was on May 22nd, 2004. After that, every year, we went back to Three Tomatoes on the anniversary of our first date. 

When we met, she was working at a bookstore in West Lebanon called Encore Books (not there anymore) and living with her parents in Grantham, NH. There was a corn field right across from my apartment that did a corn maze every fall. We went there and breezed right through it. (A year later, we tried it again and got hopelessly lost, so it must have been beginner's luck the first time.) 

After dating for about a year, we got an apartment together in Fairlee, Vermont. She always liked to read, just like me. So between the two of us, we filled that little apartment with books. She had mostly poetry and mysteries. I liked art books and science fiction. During the week, I worked at a woodshop building furniture, and Meredith continued working at the bookstore. On weekends, I was airbrushing t-shirts at local fairs and festivals, and she started coming with me to help out. Those were good times. We used to eat out a lot, go to local concerts, watch movies on TV (Netflix was just getting big then,) and go to science fiction conventions together. I have a lot of happy memories from those days. 

One of the first things she told me about herself when we first met was that she was a brain cancer survivor. She had a grand mal seizure while in college, which led to the discovery of a tumor in her brain. She underwent chemo, radiation, and surgery. After her treatments were over and she was cancer-free, she returned to college and got her degree. I met her a few years after she graduated. She was quite healthy then. She had no bad side effects from her experience except for the occasional loss of sensation on her left side, which was usually accompanied by feelings of tiredness. These were attributed to very mild seizures, which her doctors tried to control with medication. 

She had a best friend, Nichole. They met at the hospital during their cancer treatment. Nichole had a brain tumor too and was going through the same thing. They bonded instantly. Unfortunately, Nichole and her husband lived too far from Fairlee for us to get together more than a few times a year. One summer, I conspired with Nichole to give Meredith a surprise. I took Meredith out to lunch on a Sunday, telling her we were going to meet a relative of mine who was in the area. But it was really Nichole and her husband we were meeting. The look of surprise and delight on Meredith's face when she saw Nichole outside the restaurant was priceless. 

Another memory I can savor is when we went to a science fiction convention in Boston. Meredith was a huge fan of the tv show Star Trek: The Next Generation. At the convention, there was a fan dressed as a Klingon. The costume was homemade but perfect. He could have just walked off the set of the show. He kindly agreed to pose for a photo with Meredith, and I took a picture of the two of them, his arms raised in true intimidating Klingon fashion, with a huge beaming smile on her face. That was the highlight of the weekend. That photo lived on our fridge for many years. Unfortunately, somewhere along the line, it got misplaced. I'm sure it's hiding somewhere, probably tucked between the pages of a book or something. I'm keeping my eyes out for it. I'm optimistic it will turn up eventually. In the meantime, I can still see that smile on her face when I close my eyes.

Meredith loved writing poetry, and she was quite talented at it. During her cancer treatments, she wrote poems about her experiences, which she collected under the title Another Voice in the Darkness. She would print copies of this collection on our home printer, bind them with plastic binders from Staples, and hand them out to anyone interested. She would often bring copies to the hospital for her appointments to leave in the waiting room. After her treatments were over, she continued to write about her experiences, this time as a cancer survivor, not a patient. These were assembled into the collection Remember the Raspberries. Eventually, she combined the two collections named Roots, Living With(Out) Cancer. This is truly a remarkable collection of poems. Everyone who has read it is deeply touched by her words. She sometimes talked about getting Roots published professionally, but she was too content to print them out and give them away. 

Unfortunately, that same year, Meredith's condition slowly started to deteriorate. Her seizures got worse. She slowly began having balance problems, slurred speech, and occasional cognitive problems. At first, we thought it was a problem with her anti-seizure medications and that it would all be in order with a bit of tweaking of her prescriptions. Unfortunately, it was nothing that simple. The brain is a very delicate thing, and her poor brain had been through a lot, both with cancer and the treatments. Her neuro-oncologist informed her that the scar tissue from the surgery and radiation was causing damage to her brain. Even then, there was still hope that her worsening condition would eventually level off. It was even hoped that she could regain some of the motor control she was losing with some physical therapy. Unfortunately, that was not meant to be. 

I found myself taking on the role of evening and weekend caregiver. Helping Meredith with her dinner, getting her ready for bed, and getting her into bed. As our relationship changed, I never stopped loving her. Our roles changed, but our love and affection for each other never faltered. 

In 2020, Meredith had a very bad seizure, which left her completely unable to move the left side of her body. She spent two months in the hospital, followed by another two months in a rehabilitation facility. She eventually regained some ability to move her left side but never fully recovered. While at the rehab, there was a Covid breakout just as her two-week quarantine for new patients was ending. She caught Covid, along with almost everyone else, and her quarantine lasted the entire two-month stay. The psychological damage from the isolation was taking its toll. Her Mother and I visited her every day, talking with her on the phone while waving and smiling at her through the window, trying to keep her spirits up. Christmas was approaching, and we began to worry we wouldn't be able to get her discharged in time for Christmas at home. Fortunately, we did get her home for Christmas, but only just barely. She was so happy to be home. And I was so excited to have her home.

One thing that I am really amazed by and grateful for, to this day, is Meredith's incredibly positive attitude through all this. She never let her handicaps get her down. She was always quick to smile and always looked on the bright side of life. Her smiles were always genuine. She wore her heart on her sleeve and always let her joy for life shine. All her caregivers, relatives, and friends were continually amazed at her incredible positivity.

She still had trouble with her left side, which was quite a bit weaker than her other side. She also had terrible joint stiffness, which was quite painful for her, which had to be treated with injections. And she had trouble talking, making it very difficult to understand her when asking for something.

I remember one evening when I was getting her ready for bed. She kept repeating something to me over and over. I couldn't understand what she was saying. She seemed very earnest, so I was afraid something was wrong. Eventually, I figured out what she was saying. I was wearing my brand new hoodie, which was a bright purple color, and she was saying that I looked like the 'Grape Ape' (a cartoon character from the eighties.) When I finally figured out what she was saying, she laughed and I laughed - we both laughed together. I was relieved that nothing was wrong and amazed that her sense of humor was still strong. I sometimes wear that silly purple hoodie to bed, and I think of her every time. That always makes me smile.

Shortly after her return home from the rehabilitation facility, Meredith was placed in Palliative Care by her doctors. This was a tough pill to swallow for everyone. But Meredith stayed cheerful even then. It was through Palliative Care that I learned of the online forum ConnectShareCare. I also learned of support groups for caregivers and later for bereavement, which was meeting online through Zoom and other similar services. I'm still participating in support groups for the bereaved and find them very helpful. In the Summer of 2021, Meredith was moved from Palliative Care to Hospice. This was also a difficult transition. But Hospice Care did a great job making the transition as painless as possible. A couple of times, Meredith stayed at the Jack Byrne Center for a few days for a bit of respite. That was a very welcome break from constant caregiving and worrying. The first time she stayed there, I found it hard to turn off the 'caregiver mode' and enjoy the break. Eventually, I managed to stop worrying and let the experts at Jack Byrne Center take care of her.

The following winter, on Christmas Eve, 2021, Meredith was approaching the end of her journey. She always loved Christmas so much. It was her favorite holiday. Christmas Eve that year was a very good day for her. My mother and her two Golden Labs were up, which Meredith was always delighted to see. Meredith's parents came up and had dinner with us. She was feeling really good. She did a good job eating dinner, needing very little assistance from us and was able to speak much more clearly than she had been. Best of all, she was able to FaceTime chat with her best friend, Nichole. Meredith's face lit up with delight when she saw Nichole's face on the laptop screen. She was so happy that evening. 

The next day, Christmas Morning, when I tried to give her morning pills to her, she was awake but not responding to me. I figured she had a seizure, and I gave her some medication and let her rest some more. Eventually, she fell back into a deep sleep. Later that morning, when she still was not able to take her pills, I contacted her hospice nurse, who came up and checked on her. The nurse felt Meredith’s body was shutting down, and we should make her as comfortable as we could until the end. Meredith never regained consciousness. Her parents and I spent the next four days caring for her,  trying our best to make her comfortable.

On December 29th, at approximately 4:15 AM, Meredith stopped breathing. Her Mother, Father, and I were present, holding her close as she passed away. 

A few weeks later, I had a vivid dream about her. She was staying in a beautiful room with a large sliding glass door that looked out to a large deck. The deck looked out over a lush green forest. It was very similar to the rooms at the Jack Byrne Hospice Center. A large white table was in the middle of the room, piled high with little wooden boxes. They looked like little decorative knick-knack boxes or small jewelry boxes. In the dream, I clearly understood that Meredith was preparing to go to Heaven. These little wooden boxes represented all the happy memories that she wanted to take with her. 

This dream has been of immense comfort to me. I think it was her way of letting me know she was okay and on her way to Heaven. 

I will never stop loving her. I will never stop missing her. 

Here are some organizations that Meredith, her parents, and I found helpful in caring for Meredith:

For affordable caregivers:

• Aris Solutions. http://www.arissolutions.org

To help convert the bathroom and make it wheelchair-accessible:

• Cover Home Repair. http://www.coverhomerepair.org

• AHEAD http://www.homesahead.org

For respite and Hospice care:

• Jack Byrne Center https://www.dartmouth-hitchcock.org/jack-byrne-center

For services and support for long-term care in Vermont:

• Choices For Care https://asd.vermont.gov/services/choices-for-care-program