|
ATLANTA--Over 40 years ago, Alfred Witcher was standing at a vending machine
at Bluefield State College in West Virginia, looking for change for a sandwich,
when he spotted her.
Wilma was beautiful and outgoing, and even before she gave him the money he
needed for the sandwich, Alfred knew she was special.
"She was such a unique person," he said. "She was not only
beautiful physically, but she had a beautiful soul."
After dating for several years, Alfred and Wilma were married in 1948. For
the first 10 years of their life together, they lived in Pittsburgh, where
their two daughters, Marcia and Cecelia, were born. While Alfred worked as the
community organization director of a home for elderly women, his wife taught
elementary school in the inner city.
"Wilma wanted to try to help these young boys and girls with not only
the fundamentals of education, but with human relations," he said.
"She taught them to have respect for their teachers, respect for each
other and respect for themselves."
After leaving Pittsburgh, the Witchers moved to various areas of the United
States, including Ohio, New York and Maryland, before finally settling in
Atlanta in 1973.
Alfred and Wilma enjoyed doing things together. They were "outdoor
people," Alfred said. Camping and traveling were among their favorite
activities to do as a couple. Bonded by a shared Catholic faith, the Witchers
also participated in church activities together at St. Anthony of Padua Church
on the West End.
"When we first moved here, we didn't know anything about Atlanta,"
Alfred said. "Someone referred us to St. Anthony's. It was inner city,
nice and friendly and my wife liked it."
Alfred describes his wife as a "conscientious serious church
person." After several years at St. Anthony's, Wilma decided to change to
Blessed Sacrament Church in Atlanta.
"I told her, 'We have two separate souls that need salvation. You can
save your soul at Blessed Sacrament and I'll save mine at St. Anthony's,'"
Alfred said. "So, we just co-existed in two different churches."
Wilma was extremely involved at Blessed Sacrament. She organized the
after-Mass receptions and was a member of the choir. She also made sure that
her opinions were voiced, Alfred said.
"She did not hesitate to tell you exactly what was on her mind,"
he said. "That was Wilma--assertive, aggressive and nice."
Life in Atlanta was going well for the Witchers. Wilma was substitute
teaching in various inner city elementary schools and Alfred was working for
the National Health Service Corps., a federal government division of the Public
Health Department. The two also created W & A Crafts, a successful fabric
art business, of which Wilma was the president and seamstress and her husband
was the frame maker. They had three grandchildren who brought added joy to
their lives.
"Our marriage was one of challenge, it was one of love and it was one
of competition," Alfred said.
In 1992, the Witchers received a devastating blow when Wilma was diagnosed
with renal cell cancer. Alfred said that Wilma immediately began questioning
God's reasons for her illness.
"It was only her strong faith that helped her to relieve some of the
tensions from questions that couldn't be answered," Alfred said. "She
knew that it was a mystery of living and of God and she had to live by
faith."
The cancer spread from Wilma's kidneys to her lungs. Four serious operations
and treatments three times a week all proved unsuccessful, but Alfred recalls
his wife's battle as a "process of prayer and hope."
"We began to accept it and we began to pray," he said. "I
didn't necessarily want to accept her dying, but I knew I had no choice."
Wilma, a headstrong woman who was accustomed to taking care of her family,
initially struggled with her husband's attention and care taking.
"It brought us together and challenged both of us in terms of our
relationship. Her greatest fear was that I would abandon her," he said.
"She was very sensitive about all the things I did for her, but she
finally accepted and understood that I was true to my word and that I was not
going to leave her."
Alfred said that in taking care of his wife, faith and family were the
strongest forces in his life.
"Without my faith and without my strength, I knew I'd probably be sick
in bed with her," he said. "I knew if I had weakened, that (my
children) would just be distraught. But I did have the strength and faith from
my good Lord."
Alfred said that it was difficult to watch his wife, once the strong,
opinionated woman that he had married, struggle with her illness.
"Cancer is a slow descending process from health to extreme sickness. I
saw it, I walked through it every day, but at no point did I abandon her,"
he said. "The hardest part was to know that she was dying and that there
was no point of return to her life. She could only descend in an increasing
downward (motion) to death."
Wilma's greatest wish was to live through Christmas of 1997. She died Dec.
27, surrounded by her family.
"We were all by her bed when she took her last breath. We were there to
see her die," Alfred said. "It was very emotional but we were glad we
were there to experience this thing that had been creeping for five
years."
Alfred said that though dealing with his wife's death has been difficult, he
is at peace with her last years.
"We are blessed that we are still living and that's what she would
want," he said. "I am comforted because we did and I did everything
possible to make her comfortable in her days of misery."
On warm days, Alfred can be seen sitting with his neighbors in a
"parklet" in his front yard, a small area with benches and trees,
that he plans on dedicating to "Tilma," the name affectionately given
to Wilma by their grandchildren. The pain of losing his wife is still very much
a part of his life.
"Her presence was felt everywhere," he said. "I miss her
because of her goodness. She was just a good person."
Alfred also said he misses the "second opinion" that his wife
always gave him and her constant assertive and nice personality.
"That second opinion would always be the truth, about whether or not
where we were going was proper or whether or not what I was wearing to a
particular function was proper," he recalls.
Alfred spends his days as the president of the Cascade chapter of the
American Association of Retired Persons. He belongs to a jazz club and is still
actively involved at St. Anthony's as an usher and a member of the welcome
committee. Not a day goes by that he does not remember his outspoken and loving
wife.
"She was a beautiful woman, with a beautiful spirit, a beautiful
intellect and a beautiful attitude," he said. "Those were the
beautiful things about my Wilma."
|
