He’d tell her about his day, how the customers treated him at the wellness store where he worked, how he’d driven by the doughnut shop where she worked before the pandemic shut it down, leaving Tina without the Bavarian cream bars she loved.Īfter about a week, the hospital staff told Jeff they needed to transfer his wife to a facility that could better care for her long term, while freeing up space for critical COVID-19 patients. He came to the hospital at every chance, staying by Tina’s side until the nurses told him visiting hours were over.

The last thing he saw was a flash of her black hair as he shouted, “I love you, sweetheart. So he waved goodbye to Tina, his best friend who watched WWE wrestling with him and everything on the Food Network. And he couldn’t stay there in the waiting room when he was done. He couldn’t step past the red line on the linoleum floor while he filled out the paperwork. When they got to the ER, Jeff was confronted with a list of things he couldn’t do. Now, 39 years into their marriage, she had come to him saying: “I don’t feel right. When they later pulled into the parking lot for the same movie theater in Provo, he thought it was so funny that he asked if he could sit next to her at “Caddyshack.” She shrugged and said, “I don’t care what you do.” He was enamored. They were strangers in separate cars, both students at Brigham Young University, when she nearly side-swiped him and then flipped him off like it was his fault. Jeff still saw Tina as the cheeky, strong-willed woman he met in Provo in 1980.

When jesus say yes nigel lewis