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‘Glowing’ is a word often used to describe brides on their wedding day and Mary Capell was no exception.
But then again, Capell was always glowing.
That’s how Christine Bielecki, a Penn Hospice at Rittenhouse nurse, remembers the 44-year-old cancer patient who passed away Jan. 26 at the 1800-Lombard-St. facility, just six weeks after she got her dying wish to marry her 61-year-old caregiver, Lou Verdi of Ninth and Dickinson streets.
“She always glowed. She had a smile every time I walked into her room. She had such a personality — very down to earth, funny. She had the most gorgeous blue eyes. Up until days prior to her death, she would still manage to smile. That was a strong, strong spirit,” Bielecki, a former St. Agnes hospice nurse, told the Review.
A stalwart spirit who knew exactly what she wanted, right up until the end with her two wishes granted: Marriage and not dying alone.
According to Verdi and Penn Hospice employees who knew the two, Capell wanted to tie the knot because it was something she had never done, being a single mother of four: Chelsea, 15, Chancelor, 11, Kimberly, 21 and Brian, 30.
So what began as a friendship some 12 years ago in South Philly ended in a love affair and spur-of-the-moment wedding. Because time was of the essence, Melissa Miller, a social worker at the hospice who was one of the ceremony organizers, knew she had to move quickly.
“Nobody was really sure how long she had and she always wanted to get married so we wanted to make it happen for both of them. We had talked about it on a Tuesday and it happened on a Thursday,” Miller told the Review.
Considering most weddings take a year or longer to plan, between the catering, flowers and attire, Verdi and the hospice workers pulled things off smashingly in no time. In lieu of cake, the groom opted for cannolis from Termini’s. The bride got flowers and Verdi bought a bouquet for her maid of honor and hospice home-team chaplain Kathy Eagan. Penn Hospice chaplain David Wenker performed the ceremony after the bride-to-be was wheeled into the lobby to the tune of “Ave Maria.” Hospice workers draped Capell in a white scarf while Verdi recalled not having much time to spiffy up.
“I was in a T-shirt and dungarees. It worked out beautiful,” he said of his third time at the altar, so to speak.
Of the 20 guests, mostly staffers and family members of patients, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house, the groom recalled.
“I thought it was lovely. They were in love with each other. Her face would just light up every time he walked in the room. Lou was very, very devoted to her. This was our last gift to her and Lou’s last gift to her,” Bielicki said.
For Bielicki and Miller, having worked in the field for years, it was the first patient wedding they’d ever experienced.
“It was beautiful because it was her dying wish, she wanted to be married. Everybody was really excited. Considering what we do every day, consoling families and taking care of sick, dying people, it was a morale booster for everybody and for them to send her home. It felt good,” Miller said.
Unlike many patients who don’t make it out of Penn Hospice alive, Capell got hitched and sent home the same day.
But her joy would be short lived.
Almost a week after her wedding day, Mrs. Verdi was admitted to Penn Hospice after lapsing into a comatose state. Ironically enough, it was the very day her better half was going to buy their wedding rings. Instead of the gift of gold, Capell got an ambulance ride to Penn Hospice where she would stay until her final moment on this earth, some six weeks later. Following her death, Verdi bought simple gold bands that he wears around his neck.
“She’d say, ‘Louie, I’m scared, I don’t want to die.’ She was afraid of being alone. I told her I would never leave her. I could not imagine knowing you’re going to die but not knowing when you’re going to die, can you imagine that?” Verdi posed.
The morning of Jan. 26, Capell passed on.
“I promised her I would be with her until the day she died and she died in my arms,” her husband said.
And so ended a two-and-a-half-year battle with brain and lung cancer. The disease first manifested itself via a black spot on a lung X-ray after Capell got sick and she and Verdi thought it was pneumonia, he recalled. A regimen of chemotherapy and radiation swiftly began but the disease spread to her brain.
A series of hospice stints first at Thomas Jefferson University Hospital then at St. Agnes finally ended with Verdi seeking out Penn Hospice at Rittenhouse, a place Verdi can’t say enough good things about having had less than favorable experiences at the former two, he said.
“These people love their job. The nurses did her nails and hair on their lunch breaks. Another staffer would go pick up family members and bring them in to see patients. They were so wonderful. These people were God-sent to me. From the janitor to the top, they were the best. Not just with Mary but all the patients,” Verdi said.
In lieu of flowers at Capell’s funeral, Verdi requested donations be made to the hospice where Capell was originally admitted last Sept. 8.
Like most hospice today, treatment was administered at home — in this case Verdi’s dwelling — with a team that included a nurse, chaplain, home health aide and social worker. Hospice enters the picture after a doctor gives a patient six months or less to live, Miller explained.
With care given at home, facilities like Penn Hospice act as “emergency rooms, where patients are taken to get stabilized, not better,” Miller said. Many don’t make it back home while others do. Repeat stints are not unusual as the disease progresses. Once Capell was diagnosed with cancer, she moved in with Verdi who became her primary caregiver. “Lou Verdi became her rock,” Miller said. Prior to that she lived in an apartment at Ninth and Federal streets. Capell’s funeral Mass was at St. Nicholas Tolentine, 10th and Moore streets. Verdi has her ashes in an urn in his living room.
“I miss her so bad. I am so much at peace with myself because I was there [caring for her] like I promised her. I did everything that I told her I would do and she knew I loved her to the end. I miss her terribly. She was my best friend,” Verdi said.
Contact Staff Writer Lorraine Gennaro at lgennaro@southphillyreview.com or ext. 124.
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