Charlie and Brenda Part 3: Recovery and Undying Love

Charlie and Brenda Stroud

Within the last few weeks I've written about my recently departed friends Charlie and Brenda Stroud.  In my first post, I discussed how I got to know Charlie and the love of his life, Brenda.  My second post dealt with the years that Charlie and his family competed successfully in the Great American Race -- a rally for vintage automobiles.  Now, it's time to describe the years after Charlie suffered his brain aneurysm in June of 2003.

For several weeks after Charlie was stricken, he and Brenda remained in Livonia, Michigan, where Charlie was hospitalized.  He underwent several surgical procedures to relieve pressure and stop the bleeding in his brain.  His condition was slowly improving, but he was unconscious for days at a time.  Eventually, he and Brenda returned to Huntsville, where he entered a HealthSouth rehabilitation facility.  That's where I first saw him after his attack.  It was a shock to see him.  He only occasionally knew who I was when I visited.  The robust and vigorous Charlie Stroud was now a frail, aged shell of a man.  He was terribly feeble and often incoherent.  I, quite frankly, did not think he would make it.  My friend Charlie was no longer the man I knew.

But Brenda knew better.  She never gave the slightest impression of losing hope.  Every time I visited Charlie in rehab, Brenda was by his side, usually holding and massaging his frail hand.  She often had to assist in feeding him.  And he must have gotten good care, because it wasn't too many weeks before Charlie Stroud began to respond.  He started walking up and down the rehab facility corridors.  His speech became recognizable.  He began recognizing old friends and their names.  And within a few months, Charlie was released to go home with frequent visits to facilities for physical therapy and other medical/psychological services.  Brenda was his primary and always caregiver.  She took on the assignment with a vengeance.

Soon, Charlie was involved in a Pilates class for his physical development.  Brenda brought home a karaoke system.  She and Charlie would sing together for hours at a time, regardless of how it sounded, simply to develop his mental and vocal skills.  They danced and went for walks.  Brenda took him everywhere so he could redevelop social skills.  It was in a lot of ways as if she was raising a child.  And Charlie responded to the love and to all the activities.

Charlie and Brenda, in foreground, enjoying the music
of Microwave Dave and the Nukes

In November, 2009, Charlie and Brenda came to our home for a day of celebration.  Mary Ann's gift shop, "Ebabe's Gifts," had been open for a full year.  We had food, outdoor music by Microwave Dave and the Nukes, a local blues band, and lots of activity in the gift shop.  I couldn't help noticing how healthy Charlie looked and what a good time he seemed to have.  However, even on his best days, Charlie had almost childlike behavior patterns.  On this particular day, I had left my workshop open.  At one point, I noticed that Charlie had wandered off and saw him walking toward my workshop.  When I went in to see what he was up to, he had started my drill press, found a piece of scrap lumber, and was drilling a series of holes along the edge of the wood.  "Watcha doin' Charlie?" I asked.  "Drilling holes," was the reply.  Nothing could be simpler.  He stood and drilled holes for ten minutes, one after another, in several pieces of scrap wood.  When he got bored with this activity, he shut off the drill press and went back to the music of Microwave Dave.

Charlie, Brenda, and family celebrating Charlie's 90th birthday

We saw Brenda and Charlie infrequently over the last few years.  We had dinner at their home a couple times and had them up to our home a couple of times.  Brenda was Charlie's Angel, always watching and protecting him, sometimes from himself.  Their mutual love was radiant.

Then one day, I heard from a friend that Brenda had been diagnosed with terminal cancer.  What a shock!  This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen.  She was much younger and should survive Charlie, but now it seemed she would be the first to leave us.  And so she did in May of 2018.  It was a sad time, but one in which we could rejoice that she and Charlie had enjoyed so many happy years together.

I learned at the time of Brenda's passing that Charlie was going to live with family members in Texas.  I knew little more.  Now that he has gone to be with his beloved partner, we know that Charlie was bathed in love by his family in his twilight months.  Bye, Charlie.  We'll meet on the other side.  I wonder if they have cigars over there...