The Last Dance: A True Story of Courage, Faith, and Love

By Eddie Martin

Have you ever wondered how you would react if told that you only had two years to live? Join the adventure of a lifetime as you walk this path with a true Southern belle, Jennie Martin, and experience life lived to the fullest with incredible joy, faith, hope, and trust in God.

You will laugh as you cry and as you fall in love with this joyful wife, mom, and entrepreneur with an incredible zest for life that simply could not be defeated, not even in death.

She is a modern-day “little woman” filled with a remarkable inner peace who cherished the real values of life and love and lived them to her final breath.

This romantic tale of love’s triumph will inspire you to build, refine, or elevate your own relationship into the depths of the intimacy and completeness we all yearn for—depths that you may doubt actually exist. They are the very depths of pure love we were created for.

Those struggling with the darkness of a terminal illness, their own or a loved one’s, will find in The Last Dance a brilliant ray of light to guide them through this final portal. For our deceased loved ones are not gone; they have simply gone ahead.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9781663216861

Eddie Martin

Eddie Martin received a bachelors degree in Chemical Engineering from the University of South Carolina where he met the love of his life, Jennifer Nates. They were wed and blessed with four children. The couple walked away from successful careers to start a business of their own, Louisiana Gifts and Gallery, Inc., in Prairieville, a suburb of Baton Rouge, Louisiana. The business was successful and allowed the Martins to lead many mission trips to Honduras and Liberia, Africa. Jennifer’s time on this earth came to an end after thirty-five years of marriage and fifty-five years of life. Eddie, already a permanent deacon in the Catholic Church, then entered Notre Dame Seminary in New Orleans, Louisiana, and is now ordained as a Catholic priest, currently serving at St. Aloysius in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. He enjoys his three children and five grandchildren. 1/25/2021: Eddie Martin is a Louisiana native who met the love of his life, Jennifer Ann Nates, in Columbia, South Carolina, at the University of South Carolina. She was studying pharmaceuticals, intent on running the family drugstore she had been overseeing since the death of her father when she was seventeen. Eddie was studying chemical engineering. They were wed in 1978 and were blessed with four children, three of whom are still alive today. Eddie worked as a chemical engineer until their first child, Alex, arrived. Shortly thereafter, the two created a family business, Greetings of the Heart, based on Eddie’s artistic skills and Jennie’s entrepreneurial energy, which eventually evolved into Louisiana Gifts and Gallery Inc., just outside Baton Rouge, Louisiana. In the year 2003, Eddie felt a strong pull to give his life more fully to service of others through the church. He enrolled in the diaconate formation program and was ordained as a deacon of the Catholic church in 2010. Following the birth of the love of his life to heaven, he returned to seminary and was ordained into the priesthood in 2016. His is a unique priestly perspective with his family background and the five grandchildren he enjoys today. He was inspired to write this memoir to help others better cope with difficulties in life, such as cancer and the loss of a child or spouse, and to celebrate the joys of two living as one through the bond of matrimony, a bond that survives and carries us through the death of a spouse. His prayer is to bring peace to all whose faith is shaken by tragedies of life and to give hope and solace to those who wonder how God can let bad things happen to good people.

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Copyright © 2021 Fr. Eddie Martin.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

iUniverse

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

image.jpg IMPRIMATUR given by Michael G. Duca, Bishop of the Diocese of Baton Rouge, February 15, 2021

Author Credits: Edwin J Martin

ISBN: 978-1-6632-1685-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6632-1686-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021901069

iUniverse rev. date: 04/14/2021

Contents

Preface

Chapter 1 In The Beginning

Chapter 2 The Longest Week

Chapter 3 Let the Games Begin

Chapter 4 The Beat Goes On

Chapter 5 The Long and Winding Road

Chapter 6 Scrubbin’ Bubbles II

Chapter 7 If You Can’t Be with the One You Love, Love the One You’re With (Referencing Chemo, Not People!)

Chapter 8 Back to the Future

Chapter 9 Send in the Clowns—There Ought to Be Clowns

Chapter 10 Standing in the Shadows of Love, Getting Ready for the Heartaches to Come

Chapter 11 The Beginning of the End

Chapter 12 The Home Stretch

Chapter 13 The Portal

Chapter 14 Love Bears All Things

Afterword

About the Author

To honor Jennie Martin, whose courage,

faith, and love

shone all the brighter as her life’s light faded away

Preface

The words of our daughter Rachel as she leaned forward from the backseat of our car will forever remain in my memory: Daddy, Mama’s been hiding something from you. She’s been sleeping on a heating pad every night. Something’s wrong.

We had barely put away my bags and started the car in the New Orleans airport parking garage when she made the revelation. I had just returned from doing mission work in Liberia, Africa, and was relishing my reunion with my family and the love of my life. I took the car out of Reverse, returned it to Park, and turned to give my wife, Jennie, my best inquisitor look, waiting for her to come clean. It was not like my wife to hide something from me, and that alone caused my pulse to quicken.

Calmly, she said, Gallbladder problems are common with women undergoing menopause, especially in my family. Both Mama and my sister Sherrill had theirs taken out.

It seemed an innocent and innocuous moment. In reality, it was the first revelation that we had entered the battle of our lives—a battle that would forever define each of us and do its best to end our happily-ever-after relationship.

Life is filled with good times and challenging times. This is a story of both. The striking part is that some of the best times were also some of the most challenging. When we enter the crucible and are tested, our true nature is revealed. Who we are, what we are made of, and what legacy we leave are all defined in such times. Such moments go to the core of the supreme challenge we will all face one day. How do we manage the most challenging of life’s crises? What are the most useful coping tools?

I’ve come to discover that love, courage, and faith are critical not only to surviving the unthinkable but also to flourishing in the midst of the challenge. This love story involves a battle with cancer, but the experience will pertain to anyone struggling with a life-threatening condition, which will eventually include all of us. I’ve included many medical specifics in the narrative, as this information is critical to those who are experiencing the same battle and are curious about what to expect.

I hope the love, courage, and faith recorded in the following pages will allow me to expand my priestly ministry and bring solace and comfort for many struggling in this often broken world. If I have done a credible job, it should also serve as a marriage retreat and demonstrate the infinite love God intended when creating the sacrament of matrimony (Genesis 2:24).

What is love, and how do we find it, express it, and hold on to it once we’ve found it? With approximately half of marriages ending in divorce, it is clear many of us struggle to recognize it, express it, and nurture it once we experience it.

Love, although difficult to express and realize, is something we all crave. We are incomplete without it—restless. Accomplishments, realized dreams, and goals are hollow victories without someone to share them with. Tragedies and disappointments are made more bearable by the love of someone who walks the journey with you. There is no greater gift than to have another person give him- or herself to you. I know this to be true because I was fortunate enough to live it. You can as well.

The Last Dance is my wife’s and my love story. A love envisioned by God himself that enables two to become one. A love that the powers of this world cannot divide.

True love inspires courage in ourselves and in our loved ones. I’m referencing a courage that is much more than the ability to push through an event or situation despite fears. I’m speaking of courage as a core characteristic, the heart and soul of an individual. It is one of the qualities that will define us or expose us. It has the potential to bring us to greatness or leave us crumpled in the corner. On occasion, one displays the greatness of courage just by rising every morning, facing a daunting task, and living every day to the fullest. We all die, but the real loss is that some of us, lacking courage, never truly live.

Life is made of so many moments that mean

nothing. Then one day a single moment comes

along to define every second that comes after. Such

moments are the tests of courage, of strength.

—Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

The Last Dance is about such a moment: I’m sorry. It’s cancer. And there’s a lot of it.

To truly love means to have great faith in your beloved. Faith requires belief and trust. It introduces a level of vulnerability as we open ourselves to another. Surrendering control of your own life is much easier said than done for the most part, but knowing your beloved lives to complete you makes it much easier. This can be true of your spouse and is true with our heavenly Father.

Even if we don’t believe in God, we have a mindset of what the universe is all about and how we fit into it. What is our purpose? Why do we exist? Answers to these questions, and their impact on our understanding of faith, may stand in the way of our developing a faith that equips us and carries us through life’s greatest challenges.

When we are placed in the crucible of life, our faith comes to the forefront. It can carry us to peace and solitude or leave us in despair. Does our faith prepare us for a crisis and assist us as we prepare to depart from this life? Or is it more of a philosophy that serves primarily to make us at peace with whatever lifestyle we choose to live? Do we think our journey is over when this life ends? Are we concerned we might meet an exacting, scrupulous Judge when it is all said and done? Or do we envision an entrance into an existence of love—a love we were created to share and have sought and longed for all our earthly days?

The Last Dance is a tale of the latter. It’s a story of a faith in love that permeates all aspects of life and gives a solid measure of solace and inspiration, even in the direst of situations, to all who embrace it, even those who merely witness it.

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Chapter 1

IN THE BEGINNING

July 8, 2010

A brilliant display of orange and golden hues filled the western sky to signal the end of another summer day as the jet banked into its final approach to Louis Armstrong International Airport in New Orleans. The earth itself seemed to join in the celebration as the marshes and bayous of south Louisiana reflected the sky above. Like a shattered mirror, the watery mosaic beneath us did its best to emulate the majesty of the heavens above. The analogy of our goal to reflect our Creator soon brought my thoughts back to the lovely lady waiting below for my return: Jennie Martin, my soul mate and wife of thirty-two years, affectionately known as Baby Baby. She definitely knew a thing or two about reflecting the love of our Creator.

I was completing the final leg of my return trip from doing mission work as a deacon in Liberia, Africa, and the thirty-hour trip had provided plenty of time to anticipate our joyful reunion. We had been separated for the past twelve days. It had seemed more like twelve months, even though we’d spoken with each other every day on Skype. How dear those conversations had been and how thankful we’d been that we could speak to each other despite my being in a jungle half a world away.

A smile spread across my face as I recalled our first encounters and how we had come to be one.

*     *     *

Born and raised in Louisiana, I found myself in Columbia, South Carolina, in 1975. I was a University of South Carolina freshman stepping into my first college experience—a chemistry class that met in a 350-seat auditorium—and I didn’t know a soul. I said a brief prayer as I walked up the hill from the parking lot: Lord, if the woman you want me to spend the rest of my life with is here on this campus, please don’t waste much time in showing her to me. You know I’m a little slow and won’t be here very long, and I want to be sure she’s the right one.

Not five minutes later, she shuffled past my legs as she worked her way to the seat two down from my own. I would never forget the sight as I heard a Pardon me and looked up to see a river of auburn curls flowing down and over a well-dressed and curvaceous figure. She had been the first person to speak to me after my prayer. I stole a glance at her face once she sat down and thought, Wow! She’ll do! even though I never had dreamed the Lord would be that prompt in answering my prayer or dial up such a dream for me.

A friend of hers, Troi, shared a lab from that class with me. Jennie was so proficient and intelligent that she always finished her experiment thirty minutes or so before the rest of us and would come into our lab to help Troi complete her experiment. Three times, I approached her and tried to start a conversation, and three times, I came away without even getting a word out of her. Yet her body language spoke volumes, politely but clearly communicating, Buddy, you could drop dead right now, and it wouldn’t bother me a bit.

After my third strike, I got the message, gave up, and limped back to my dugout, thinking, Either that girl is not interested in men, or some guy sure has a real treasure there.

Several months went by before we finally interacted. She invited me to join Troi and her for lunch at the table they were sharing. I was shocked and pleased to learn that not only could she speak, but she even knew my name! We struck up a conversation, and a couple of hours went by like minutes. I stood up to leave, explaining I had a class to catch, but before I could get the words out, she finished my sentence and even named my destination across campus. My heart began racing. She had been checking me out! She was also heading that way and suggested we walk together.

As we walked, too shy to ask her out, I asked her to help me with a freshman library project. She agreed and suggested we meet that evening.

When we met later as planned, we hardly worked on the project but had such a good time that we were asked to leave the library. I walked her to her car, and she kept waiting for me to ask her out, but I couldn’t seem to pull the trigger. Once we reached her car, she pretended she didn’t understand the math in the chemistry class we were taking together and asked if I could explain it to her. Thus, the wonderful, smart engineer immediately came to the rescue of the beautiful pharmacy-major damsel in distress.

As I finished solving the problem for her, I told her how much I had enjoyed our day, wrote my number on the paper, and told her to please call me again if she ever needed any more help. I said I would love to study with her again.

She took the paper, shook her head, turned it over, wrote her number on it, and gave it back to me, saying, Girls don’t call boys. Boys call girls. And do it soon!

I called and asked her out the next night. Ultimately, she exempted the final in that class. She played me all the way. Thanks be to God!

After our first date, she told her mother I was the one. She had found the guy she would spend the rest of her life with. Her mother, Jane Beckham Nates, told her to go to bed—she’d feel better in the morning.

On our third date, Jennie told me she loved me. I bolted for the door and hustled straight to my car. As the key found the ignition switch, I froze and asked myself what in the world I was doing. Everything you’ve learned about this woman is perfect. She is gorgeous, smart, a blast to be with, humble, selfless, dedicated to you, trustworthy, and of highest morals; has a strong faith; and is very hardworking. She doesn’t appear to have a single flaw. You can’t get her out of your mind or stand to be apart from her. She tells you she loves you, and you run? I sat there trying to understand my own reaction, until I eventually realized the problem.

I walked back inside and found her beautiful brown eyes filled with tears. Did I blow it? she asked, not daring to look up at me.

I sat beside her, took both of her hands in mine, stood her up, and turned her so we were squarely facing each other. I waited for her eyes to meet mine and gently replied, I’ve got a big family I love very dearly in Louisiana and would hate to spend the rest of my life far away from them. Likewise, I wouldn’t want to ask you to surrender the love and support of your family here. I’m not saying it has to be that way, but if you can’t see yourself possibly leaving here and living in Louisiana, then maybe it’s best if we end this now before we grow any closer.

She fell into my chest, wrapped her arms around me, looked up at me, and said with complete confidence, My place will always be beside you, no matter where the Lord takes us. She punctuated her reply with a kiss.

I floated out of her home on Lockewood Lane, thinking, If this is a dream, I hope I never wake up.

Realizing our relationship was getting serious, I brought her home to meet my folks. Although born in Louisiana, my dad had learned English as a foreign language and still spoke with a heavy French accent.

As my dad greeted her and spoke in his thick accent, Jennie began to withdraw to the other side of the room. Her bottom lip quivered, and she was speechless. Her eyes darted back and forth between my dad and me as she eventually backed into our sofa and sat down somewhat awkwardly. My dad’s words became slower and more measured as he looked at me, wondering what in the world was going on. I simply shrugged, as startled by her reaction as he was. Eventually, the room was shrouded in silence as my folks and I stared at her, bewildered.

She eventually stammered, You wouldn’t happen to know a man named George Huey, would you?

My dad responded, May yeh, das da man who hired me! I took his place; now I’m the chief engineer of the Soil Conservation Service for the state of South Carolina.

A smile broke out across her face as she asked, You don’t remember me, do you?

Now it was my dad’s turn to sport the deer-caught-in-the-headlights look. His eyes darted between us as he quietly admitted as much.

She said, The day you came for your interview, he brought you home so he could show off his wife’s gumbo to you! She smiled and waited.

His face lit up, and he exclaimed, Dat was you?

Dat was me, she responded, elated.

We began to understand that something more than chance had brought us together. Jennie had been engaged to the son of Mr. Huey and had been at his home, visiting with him, when my dad interviewed. She was sure the hand of God had brought me to her, and that was what had caused her reaction. She reasoned there was no other way the father of the man she’d planned to marry had brought the father of the man she now wanted to marry 750 miles and delivered him to her feet.

Her initial rejections added to the prospect of divine intervention at work in our relationship. A former girlfriend of mine back in Louisiana had been too tender to let me down, so she had started seeing another guy in addition to me. Ours had been a shallow relationship, and the breakup had hurt my pride much more than my heart. Just the same, it had affected me enough that I had shied away from serious relationships since. God had turned that negative experience into a positive as he used it like a two-by-four between the eyes to get my attention and make Jennie stand out. There were plenty of smart, beautiful girls who were a blast to be with and had high morals. However, Jennie not only had all those attributes and more but also was as faithful to her man as the day was long—a rare find indeed.

The assurance that this incredible woman was a gift to me from God himself and the answer to my prayer on that first day of class filled me with awe, confidence, trust, and gratitude as we reveled in the depths of our love. She had been the first person to speak to me not five minutes after my prayer. I wasn’t accustomed to such speedy replies from upstairs, and the uniqueness of the response really hit home as the two of us started getting serious.

After I shared with her that she was my answered prayer, she stared into my eyes for a while and then said with great conviction, We’d better not screw this up! This is way bigger than just the two of us!

*     *     *

As the plane touched down, I began to formulate the answer I would give her when she asked how my trip and the mission experience had been. Although we had been involved in mission work for more than ten years, this was the first time I had gone without her, as I’d been unsure how safe the country would be. It had been an incredible experience, yet I had struggled in doing it without her; part of me had been missing, and I couldn’t wait to be made whole once more. I thanked God for such a wonderful gift to share my life with and hurried through the airport terminal.

As I approached the welcoming area, I caught sight of a sign held by my youngest son, Jim; his bride, Ashlie; and my lovely daughter Rachel: Welcome Back, Daddy! The message was complete with paw prints to represent our pets. Jennie was there beside them with the most beautiful smile beaming out. I felt like the luckiest man on the planet as we

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fell into each other’s arms and the love of my family swept over me.

We piled into our car and began the hour-long drive toward Baton Rouge, to our home in Gonzales. Rachel couldn’t wait to tell on her mom: Daddy, Mama wouldn’t say anything to you on the phone, but she’s been hiding something from you. She’s in a lot of pain and is sleeping on a heating pad every night. Something’s wrong.

I cast an inquisitive glance at Jennie, and she assured me it was no big deal, probably just her gallbladder going bad, as had happened to her mother and one of her sisters as they went through menopause. Then, to make light of it, she added one of her favorite sayings: Menopause is fun. We love menopause.

She was forever positive. When things didn’t go as she hoped, she’d make light of the situation, poke fun at it, and move on. It was a tactic she would soon be employing more than any of us ever would have dreamed.

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Chapter 2

THE LONGEST WEEK

September 29, 2010

Jennie’s pain level varied over the next few months, with periods of her feeling fairly normal and periods of interrupted sleep. She focused on changing her diet and ignored my pleas to schedule an appointment with our family doctor. Baby Baby was the picture of health and rarely even caught a cold. She was also comfortable with her medical knowledge, and her internet research seemed to confirm her diagnosis of a failing gallbladder. When pushed to see our doctor, she would respond, There’s nothing that can be done. I’ll just adjust my diet to minimize the flare-ups, and when the pain gets too bad, I’ll get it cut out.

By late September, she was sleeping on a heating pad, had another one on top of her midsection, and had to get up at night to soak in a hot bath to ease her pain. She finally acknowledged the time had come to schedule the operation and made an appointment with our family doctor, Elizabeth Curtis.

Dr. Curtis examined her and agreed she indeed appeared to need her gallbladder out but ordered a sonogram to be sure. An appointment was made for September 29 at Baton Rouge General Hospital.

Jennie and I were greeted by a petite and friendly technician with big dark eyes and a wonderful smile who explained what was about to happen as she engaged us in lively small talk. The room, much like the technician, was small and dark, with just enough room for the examination bed and the sonogram machine. She began the sonogram and soon froze the image, took measurements, and recorded them. A few seconds later, she moved on to another area of interest and repeated the process.

When she isolated a third