Cynthia Lee Pratt
1948-2011
I'm really not sure where to begin.
Two and a half years ago, I met Derek's family. We went over to his mom's house for dinner and a board game. His family (all but his oldest brother Clint) knew there was a change in his personal life, so they were expecting me. I was nervous, of course. I wanted them to like me. Or at the very least, tolerate me. What I received from them was far greater. I received another family.
Derek's mom, Cynthia, was so accepting of me. She knew a small part of the circumstances that led to Derek and I being together, but she still welcomed me with open arms. Before long, I was part of the family, even though not officially.
Cynthia became more than just a mother-in-law for me. She was a friend. Words cannot express what she really came to mean to me.
On Thursday, June 30, 2011, Derek and I received a phone call from his family at about 6:30 in the morning. Cynthia was being taken to the hospital again. One thing that was never a secret with her was that she had multiple sclerosis. She was in the hospital a lot more than anyone would have liked, but this also created a comfort zone in a way. When we'd get the calls, we'd make sure everything was okay, and then tell his siblings to call us if there was anything serious found.
I went to work, and by 9am, Derek was calling me. From the hospital. He told me his mom had a stroke and they were working on getting a blood clot out of her brain right then. We went to see her that night and everyone had such high hopes and maybe even expectations (based on everything else she had been through) that she was going to pull through this.
I went to work on Friday and Derek called me as I was wrapping things up and getting ready to leave for the weekend. He asked if I was going straight to the hospital after work. I told him I was. He said, "Okay. That's probably good." I knew something was wrong.
I rushed to the hospital (obeying speed limits, but still in a hurry) to hear the news. Derek came out to meet me and told me the devastating truth of what had happened.
The stroke had severely damaged her brain. She told her children for many many years that if she were to ever end up in a vegetative state that she wanted them to just let her go.
So, as hard as it really was for all of her children, that's exactly what they did. They knew she would not want to live in that state, nor did any of them want to put her through that.
The next two days were spent in waiting. We spent many hours at the hospital, and many more hours at home thinking about what was happening right before our eyes. I will admit, I think I've been having a harder time dealing with everything than Derek himself.
On Monday, July 4, 2011, we were called to the hospital at about 1:30pm. We spent the entire rest of the day there, not knowing what was going to happen. By about 7:00, she was still in just about the same state as she had been all day and the nurses that were giving her the pain killers (so she could pass peacefully) would ask us, "Is there anyone that hasn't told her it's okay for her to go? Is there anything else that could be keeping her here?" Then we got to talking. She wouldn't have wanted everyone crowding around her fussing over her when she passed. She wouldn't want her children to see her that way. So we left the room and left her alone for about an hour and a half.
When we went back up to the room, it seemed as though she was still in the same state. The nurse said it could be several more hours. We were exhausted by this point and just ready to crash into bed. Just as we were getting ready to slowly pack it in, some fireworks started outside her window. She was placed on the top floor of the hospital with an East facing window, looking directly into the Murray Park.
Cynthia lived her life to the fullest. She swore she wouldn't let the MS get the better of her. She swore the MS would not take her life. She was right. She beat the MS.
At 9:20pm, while the fireworks exploded outside, we felt (and witnessed) Cynthia Lee Pratt passing from this existence to another. Leave it to Cynthia to go out with a bang and wait for the fireworks to start going off outside.
She did so much for me that she never even knew. The only regret I would have is that I didn't have enough time to truly spend with her. She meant more to me than she knew and I know, even as my eyes fill with sadness, that she is still with me and all of our family, and she will be for all time. Giving us strength when we need it, acceptance, love, kindness... Everything she had within herself that we all want to be ourselves.
She was loved by more than just her family and everyone will miss her light. But I know, as Derek does, that her light is not gone. It's only dispersed. Now she really can be everywhere at once. Watching over all of her children and grandchildren. Helping them through life and simply being there for them when they need comfort.
We love you, Cynthia. You will never be forgotten. Thank you for everything you did for me, and everything you were for me.
