16 years before she died, Becky had a miscarriage at 10 weeks. The pregnancy was unexpected, but we were excited to have child number four in our home. Then he/she was gone. A few months later I approached Becky about having another child. “Stan, I don’t feel it right now”, she said. And then every few months for the next five years or so we’d have the same discussion. The prompting never came. I often wondered why. She and I both wanted more kids. Was it her service in the legislature? Was it selfishness? I trusted her that she would know. All it took was the first pregnancy to realize that my wife was in charge of figuring out if and when to have a baby.

Fast forward to 2012. Becky was at the height of her political power. She had just been reelected Speaker of the House by a large margin and was beloved by the vast majority of her colleagues. A couple of days later she called me. “Stan, I’m getting these feelings that I need to announce my retirement in two years from the House.” Really? “Becky are you nuts? If you make that announcement, you will become a lame duck and the Senate and Governor will roll right over you in negotiations.” “Okay”, she replied and the conversation was over. The next day she calls me again. “Stan, I still have that same feeling.” I responded, “Becky people are talking about you running for higher office. If you step down, you won’t be able to raise enough money to run for office.” Again she replied, “Okay.” And went her way. The next day she called me again. “Stan, I am still feeling prompted to announce I’m leaving the House at the end of this term in 2014.” I replied, “Becky you know what that feeling is (the Holy Ghost). If you feel it, then do it.” That same day she made a public announcement that she would be retiring in two years. All the political pundits wrote about this “political strategy” and how clever Becky was. And the whole time it was just a feeling.

At the end of the 2014 Legislative session, in her closing remarks Becky was emotional and even shedding a few tears. That rarely happened. She wasn’t called the Iron Lady for nothing. She expressed loving tender feelings about her colleagues and her love for the Capitol and what takes place there, the legislative process. She had a deep abiding love for and considered the Capitol to be sacred, like an LDS temple in many ways. Shortly thereafter, she began to ask me on an increasingly frequent basis, “Stan, what does God want me to do?” We pondered the promptings she felt to announce her retirement. And we wondered. As we got through the summer, Becky was approached by State School Board members to apply for State Superintendent. She wondered if that was what God wanted her to do. She didn’t get the job. She kept searching. There were many opportunities in her future, but she wanted to find the answer to the promptings two years earlier. She last asked me that question shortly before her headaches/vertigo set in the middle of November 2014.

The weekend before Thanksgiving, she invited me to attend a national Legislative meeting with her in Scottsdale, AZ. She almost always went alone to these meetings. Somebody had to stay home with the kids and provide for the family. I quickly made arrangements to join her. It was a wonderful weekend at a very nice resort. She asked me to hold her hand because her vertigo made it hard to walk. I was delighted. Becky didn’t ever ask me to hold her hand. We had a great time together. Still no idea that she would be gone less than two months later.

We went home and had extended family to our house for Thanksgiving. We had a wonderful time and Becky was right in the middle of it all. All was right in our lives, except for Becky’s vertigo.

The first week of December she led a delegation of Legislators to Washington DC and was in fine form discussing state issues with Utah’s federal delegation. Colleagues who were on that trip still tell me how articulate she was on matters, while dealing with a case of vertigo. Over her four years as Speaker she had met in the oval office with President Obama talking about Utah issues and had met with several of our country’s leaders. She demanded respect. It wasn’t an overt action. When Becky walked into the room, even the strongest personalities would defer to her. She had a sign in the bathroom in the Speaker’s office that I put in a place where I can still see it every day. It says, I’m not really a bitch. I just play one in your life. A strong man is recognized as a virtue. A strong woman is called a bitch. Becky was keenly aware of how women are treated differently than men. Part of the reason she was a champion for women speaking up and participating in all areas of society.

The second week of December, another first time experience with Becky. She wanted me to drive her to Salt Lake City and the Capitol for her meetings. I cancelled my appointments to help her. The next day, she recruited my daughter to do the same. That went on for a week.

Then it was time for her last official act as Speaker. A trip to New York City and another national Legislative forum. One night after walking through Times Square with colleagues and holding on to a friend’s arm the whole time, they arrived back at the hotel and Becky said to the friend, “Where is the elevator?” when they were in front of the elevators. “Where is my room?” And suddenly her colleagues knew something was wrong. I got a call at 4 am. “Becky is sick. Dementia. We are sending her home. Pick her up at the airport.”

The next morning we were back at the family practice doctor. Becky had already been there twice before. All three times she was told she just had a wintertime virus and she just needed to be patient. Same this time, but we got a referral to begin seeing specialists. Balance test. MRI. All checking out fine even though Becky was losing cognitive abilities and motor skills a bit day by day. Doctors take the Christmas holidays off. At least neurologists do. And there is a shortage of neurologists in Utah County.

Christmas came and went and Becky was doing a bit less each day. The extended family came again for Christmas. Her mom saw what was happening and quickly made arrangements to stay as long as needed. In a spontaneous picture taking session, we got one last
photo with Becky’s extended family. We had a skype session with my son Stephen. She wasn’t as into the conversation as usual, but would occasionally comment with something insightful. My son could see that his mother wasn’t feeling well.

Frustrated at not finding access to a neurologist, I called a medical provider CEO and got Becky in to the best doctor he could find on January 5, 2015. I walked Becky to the car for the doctor’s appointment. That was the last time she walked. He ran simple tests similar to what police check for with drunk drivers. Touch your nose. Touch my finger. Here are three words to remember. After some chit chat repeat the three words. Becky struggled. The doctor knew. He wanted more tests. We wanted those tests in a hospital. The doctor excused himself. 10 minutes later he returned and said, I’ve got her scheduled for the U of U Medical Center.

As we drove there, I called the Government Relations person for the U of U. A good friend. He had the CEO of the Hospital meet us there. Becky was admitted to the Neuro Acute Center, one of the top 15 neurology units in the country. Dr. Jennifer Majersik, my all time favorite doctor, and her team were in charge of figuring this out. They ran the same tests as before. Then they hooked her up to an EEG. The machine went crazy. The tech thought he hooked it up wrong. Then realized he didn’t. We knew it was serious. The morning of January 6, 2015 Dr. Majersik and her team came in to tell us that it was likely CJD. Cruxfeldt-Jacob Disease. No treatment. Always fatal. This was a classic case and Becky had no more than a few days to live.

Dr. Majersik later told me that we accepted the news with such grace that she was touched. The next two days at the hospital were a blur. A close friend took care of the media press conference. Dr. Majersik called CJD Alzheimers on steroids, an apt description. Family and close friends came to offer support. Many kindnesses. Church leaders came and gave blessings of comfort and assurance of God’s Plan of Happiness. I walked around the hospital floor hundreds of times, numb.

On January 8, 2015 we took Becky home and with the help of hospice had 7 days of sweet peaceful experiences with Becky. One of the promises in her blessing was that she would have clarity and for a disease that is eating your brain, she had unexplained times of clarity.

One night my daughter asked if we could read Becky’s patriarchal blessing, something each member of the church can receive. This is a very personal set of promises given to us by God. Normally, we don’t share these blessings with others, but in this case it felt right. Each talent, ability and promise had happened in her life. We could see it clear as can be.

On January 17, 2015 at 12:40 pm Becky died. Why did she not feel the prompting to have another child? Well that child and any others would have been younger and more vulnerable when mom died. Why did she have the prompting to announce her retirement at the apex of political power? Heavenly Father knew what was going to happen. “Stan, what does God want me to do?” We found out what He wanted her to do. Unfortunately, it wasn’t what we wanted her to do. The pain of losing a spouse is unfathomable to those who haven’t yet been in that place. They don’t know what they don’t know. Now that I’ve been there, I know. The waves of grief come hard and fast. My heart has broken over and over again. I have turned to God in my sorrow and He has been there for me and is there for me now. This time apart is but for an instant in eternity and all will be made whole and right again one day when Becky and I are reunited on the other side.