Lori

It’s impossible to talk about Wes without thinking about Lori. In the history of mankind, I can think of no two people who were more perfect for each other. From the moment he first laid eyes on her, Wes was in love with Lori. But she didn’t know it. And Lori was in love with Wes. And he likewise, was unaware. The night of Wes’ missionary farewell, Lori wrote him a goodbye letter. The instant the last guest left, Wes and I raced upstairs to open the letter. He tore open the envelope like a wolverine, and began frantically reading. The letter was tantalizingly professional. With one exception. A single line. A single line of hope that would have to carry Wes through two long years in The Arctic Circle. She mentioned that he had “a terribly winsome smile.” Wes read this line, and looked up at me for help. I stared blankly back at him. He leapt to his feet and ran for the dictionary. I’m not sure how Webster defined “winsome” that day, but I’m pretty sure Wes took it to mean “I’m hopelessly in love with you, and can’t wait to marry you the day you get back.”

And so like the noble travelers of old, our hero returned from his voyage to marry the fair maiden. Shortly thereafter, a beautiful daughter arrived, followed a few years later by a handsome son.

Wes & Lori were the physical incarnation of selfless love. Their lives were spent caring for each other, and their beautiful children.

On Wes’ final night of mortality, I was given the privilege of watching him for a short-time so his exhausted family could get a few minutes of sleep. At 3:00 a.m. they curled up in armchairs, on the floor, and in window-sills in the living room. Before my shift, I went to the store to pick up a soda, to help me stay awake. I returned a few minutes later to one of the most touching scenes I’ve ever witnessed. I walked into Wes’ room, and saw Lori sitting alone by his bed. The soft glow of a hospital monitor illuminated their silhouettes. She was leaning over his bedside, her head on his chest, and was fast asleep, holding her sweetheart’s hand. I walked across the room on what felt like sacred ground. I tried several times to wake her, but was unsuccessful. She slept like someone who hadn’t slept in years. Someone who’d given her all many times over, and then somehow found a way to give even more. Were there unseen angels in Wes’ room in his final hours? I can’t say for sure. But I did see one of flesh and blood. Right there by his side, just as she had always been.