“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” Psalms 23:4
Last Wednesday night, I got a call from widow Joyce. When I picked up the phone she greeted me and I greeted her, but her voice sounded weary…tired, not the tired you get from not sleeping, but the tired you get from too many emotions swirling around deep inside your heart. She told me that Jane, my dear sweet widow friend, was “badly off.” She encouraged me to come and see her the next day, as she was sure God could take her home at any moment. She ended our brief conversation by saying; “She is in God’s hands now. Only He can help her now.” I didn’t quite realize yet how true that statement would be.
On Thursday, after the widows meeting, Suzan, Annet and I went to see Jane. As we entered her house, we found Ida, another one of our widows, praying with Jane’s aunty and caregiver. Her Aunty was leaning against the doorframe, shoulders hunched over sobbing on Ida’s shoulder. Ida was praying softly while rubbing her back. We slowly entered the house as to not disturb the comfort Ida was trying to give to Jane’s Aunty. But, it is a small house, so it was only seconds before they noticed us and welcomed us into Jane’s room. The three of us kneeled in front of Jane’s bed as the Aunty continued to sob. She then walked towards Jane’s bed and pulled the covers off of Jane’s body and choked out the words, “You want to see Jane. This is Jane. This is not how things are supposed to be. She vomits and has diarrhea all day long! She is in constant pain! This is not a life!” We looked at the deformed body in front of us. She was naked except for a homemade diaper. The skin was tightly clinging to each rib-each indentation between the ribs was deep enough to fit the width of your finger. As the ribs ended, there was no stomach…it was as if the skin fell directly to her spine and then stretched over her pelvic bone. She was now just a skeleton…a collection of bones. I couldn’t help but breathe in sharply when I saw the grotesque shape of her body. I remembered seeing films of Holocaust victims in school and now I was seeing the same horror right before my eyes. I blinked back tears and tried to compose myself. All I could think of was how evil AIDS really was and I wanted to scream, “DAMN YOU AIDS. DAMN YOU TO HELL!”
Ida took the Aunty outside to comfort her as I leaned towards Jane’s face and greeted her…very softly, tenderly I said, “Jane…Suzan, Annet and I have come to see you. Do you remember who I am?”
Very weakly, she turned her eyes toward me and said, “Aunt Kari.”
“Yes, that’s right. I wanted to come and tell you that I love you and that God loves you very much. How are you feeling today?” I asked.
“I don’t know…breathing is hard, but God is with me. He is here with me.” At that point, she had the most peaceful look on her face…even amidst all the pain, all the diarrhea, all the vomiting…God was there…seated next to her, holding her. She didn’t recognize Suzan or Annet, but she did keep repeating that God was there. It was then that I thought AIDS will destroy the body, but never, never the soul. She was becoming tired so I asked if I could pray for her. I wasn’t sure if I could hold it together long enough to pray for her, but suddenly I felt a courage and strength I didn’t even know I had. I asked God to continue to sit with her, to hold her, to comfort her. I asked him to lead her home…to release her from her suffering. As I prayed, I sensed that God was getting ready to lead her home…that she would be leaving us soon.
On Saturday, I attended the graduation party of widow Jenifer’s daughter. Phiona was graduating from university and had already secured a job in her field. It was a miracle of God that Jenifer was able to secure a sponsorship for all of Phiona’s schooling! The quarters where the ladies live was filled with singing and dancing. It was an incredible party full of pure joy. I was overjoyed to celebrate God’s faithfulness with them. As, Annet and I enjoyed ourselves; widow Rebecca came and asked to speak to us privately. We gathered around her and tried to hear her over the loud African music.
Without anyone knowing, the Aunty had left Jane’s house early that morning. She had left Jane’s 4-year-old girl, Mary, and Jane alone all day. Mary sat next to her mommy’s bed all day and got water for her mother to drink when Jane was lucid enough to talk to her. There was no one there to feed Mary or to help her care for her sick mother. Then in the afternoon, Kathy, Jane’s oldest, came home from boarding school. She had finished her exams early and was excited to come home and see her mother. When Kathy entered the house she saw her baby sister sitting by Jane’s bed crying and the house smelled like a mixture of diarrhea and vomit. When she called Jane’s name, she didn’t move. So Kathy began hysterically screaming and crying. Not knowing what to do, she picked Mary up and ran to Rebecca’s house. Rebecca then left Mary with her older children and ran with Kathy back to the house. When Rebecca found Jane, she was still breathing. So, she assured Kathy that her mom was still alive and helped her calm down. Kathy begged Rebecca to take her mother to the hospital, but when they phoned Jane’s doctor he told her that the TB had eaten her lungs and that she was in the final stage of AIDS…there was nothing the hospital could do for her anymore. Kathy burst into tears again, so Rebecca just held her as she cried. Then she and Kathy picked Jane up and bathed her and cleaned the sheets. When she was cleaned up and Kathy was calmer, Rebecca came to find us.
At that point we knew we needed to go check on the children. Annet and I rushed to Jane’s home. It was now dark and there was no power in the quarters. The night was inky black and it was difficult to see your hand in front of your face. As we approached the house, we heard Kathy crying and wailing. I began to shake. I wondered if Jane had already died and now we would see her dead body in the dark. Annet quickly threw her arms around Kathy and held her while Kathy cried on her shoulder. Annet then said, “We won’t leave you. We will stand with you until the end. We won’t leave you.” I softly rubbed her back and assured her that we would stay with her. We entered the home each holding one of Kathy’s hands and approached Jane. At that moment Jane opened her eyes and I could see she was still breathing. I kneeled down and told Jane that we had come to visit her again. She wasn’t sure who I was, but she said that God was there with her. She even asked Rebecca if she was dead. We then softly told her that she was still alive, but that if she wanted to follow Jesus it was okay. It was then that Annet and I noticed a shadow towards the back of the room. I have great difficulty seeing in the dark, so I asked Annet, “Can you see who that is?” She noticed right away that it was Bernard, Jane’s second oldest son. I went over and hugged him. He seemed scared to get close to his mother and yet at the same time he seemed to want to be near her.
The children had not eaten at all, so I called widow Ruth and asked her to bring some food for the children to eat. Then I called Widow Joyce and told her that the children were here alone, as the Aunty had gone missing. Ruth showed up moments later with food. Joyce also arrived quickly—Jane is her best friend. Joyce immediately took control of the situation…using my phone to call the Aunty and convince her to return. Jane’s Aunty had just gotten overwhelmed at the thought of watching her niece die such a painful death. As Ruth set out the food, Jane suddenly became full of energy and began to talk. She asked each of her children to come sit next to her and then showed her love for them. She pleaded with Kathy to keep studying well and to be the woman God had created her to be. Then she smiled at her daughter. She continued to tell them that God was here with her and that she was okay. It was then that I realized that she was saying goodbye. I wanted to break down and cry. I was going to miss her so much and I knew that she would follow Jesus soon…that it wouldn’t be long now. Joyce offered to stay with the children until the Aunty returned, so Annet and I left. As I left, I knew somewhere deep inside that I would not see my friend again this side of heaven.
Joyce stayed up all night with Jane…talking with her, remembering the laughter and the sorrows they had shared over the years. Joyce did most of the talking, but it felt good to be with her one last time. At 2:00 am Joyce bathed her friend one last time, she didn’t want her to die with vomit or diarrhea on her. Finally at 3:45 in the morning she breathed her last breath and followed Jesus to the House of the Lord.
I heard the news of her death at 5:00am and couldn’t go back to sleep. I laid in bed thinking about all the special times we had spent together, the times we had wasted whole afternoons laughing and trading stories. I felt a deep sadness enter my soul, not despair, but just a sadness in losing someone you love…knowing it will be a long time until you see them again. But, strangely enough, I also felt a strong sense of peace in knowing that she wasn’t suffering anymore…that she was not in pain and never would be again.
On Sunday, I went to Jane’s house to comfort the children and to support her grieving family. As I arrived, her aunty grabbed my hand and led me into the house where Jane’s body lay. I walked slowly into the room, there was a pastor standing in the corner praying for her and for those who are suffering now that she is gone. Then, although there were other people in the room, I didn’t hear them or see them. I dropped to my knees beside her body and began to cry…really cry. What I saw just overwhelmed me. You see she was wearing the Dorcas Widows Gomasi (dress). All the widows had made the same Ugandan dress, so that they could wear it when they represented our group somewhere or to welcome special visitors or to a special function. Jane was never able to wear her dress because she had been so ill for so long. The dress was brand-new…never been worn. Now, she was wearing that beautiful dress to go meet the savior. She was representing the widows in the courts of heaven. She looked so beautiful. Her face was so peaceful. It was then I realized that it was the first time I had seen her face without the mark of pain.
So now my dear sweet friend is in the arms of the savior…laughing, loving and free…free of pain, free of suffering, free of AIDS…just free. She is dancing in her beautiful dress and praising the God who rescued her from her body of death. Oh, how sweet it will be to join you in that party someday….
“Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” Psalms 23:6
In Loving Memory of Jane Francis Adakini
1971-2009
