This couple died days apart of COVID-19. But the ending was happier than expected.

Margaret Powe lay in a bed in a negative-pressure room at Baptist Memorial Hospital in Memphis, Tenn., on April 12, two days away from having her life snuffed out by COVID-19.

Meanwhile, in a room right next door, her husband of 58 years — Charles “Ed” Powe Jr., who had spent decades practicing medicine in Charlotte — was being ravaged by the same virus, and would himself be gone just four days later.

It was, to the casual observer, perhaps one of the most painfully tragic scenes imaginable.

There’s also another way to look at it, though: In a time when so many victims of the novel coronavirus are suffering and dying in near-complete isolation from loved ones, that the Powes were able to live out the final hours of their lives as close as logistically possible was not just a comfort to both of them and their families, but a genuine joy.

“One of the doctors called us that day,” said their daughter-in-law, Lisa Powe, of the Memphis suburb of Germantown, “and they said, ‘Well, when you walk in the room, you wouldn’t even know she is critically ill.’ … I mean, she’s about to die, and she had a smile on her face.”

So did Ed, when he was told she was in the neighboring room. In fact, a nurse snapped a photo of him smiling in response to the news and brought it next door to Margaret. She smiled back.

Make no mistake about it — COVID-19 is not a compassionate killer, and the Powes’ family knows their parents were in a great deal of pain. About 24 hours later, Charles Powe said, neither of them was lucid anymore.

Margaret, 80, died on April 14 and Ed died on April 18, at age 88, leaving behind Charles and Lisa and their adult children (granddaughters Elizabeth and Margaret); as well as older daughter Hettie Reule of Tampa, Fla., her husband Dean, and their adult children (granddaughters Anne-Grace, Mary and Emma).

But Ed and Margaret also left behind a story of how finding faith in North Carolina changed the course of their family forever.

‘It saved their marriage’

Ed was born in Florence, S.C., and grew up in nearby Hartsville (about 80 miles southeast of Charlotte) and was sent to a private boarding school in Virginia as a teen. He attended college at Davidson, outside of Charlotte, then medical school at the University of Charleston in South Carolina.

Margaret grew up in Wendell (about 20 miles east of Raleigh), attended college in Virginia, and went on to become a flight attendant for Eastern Airlines, working the New York City-to-Miami route.

Their daughter Hettie Reule said Margaret became close friends with a co-worker who was engaged to a man in Miami and would wind up being a bridesmaid at her wedding — where Margaret met Ed, who happened to be doing his residency in Miami, and who happened to be one of the groomsmen.

They married on Dec. 15, 1962, and re-settled in Charlotte. Within the first few years in town, Ed founded Providence Obstetrics and Gynecology and the couple welcomed Hettie and Charles into their lives.

But there was a period during the early ’70s when smiles seemed to be hard to come by. Charles said his father “had a lot of difficult life issues at the time. … He struggled with alcoholism, and that caused a lot of conflict and stress in their marriage.”

All that began to change one day in 1974, though, Charles said, when his parents were visiting Grandfather Mountain with one of Ed’s old college friends and his wife. “Dad just noticed that there was something really different about his friend and his relationship with his wife, and he asked him, ‘Something’s not in my life. Something’s missing. What is it?’”

The friend shared with Ed about his relationship with Jesus. The conversation eventually wound up leading Ed and Margaret to Calvary Church in Charlotte.

“It saved their marriage,” Charles said. “My mom saw the change in him. She saw what Christ could do. And that’s what they encouraged and taught us growing up. So it changed his life significantly, and in effect changed our family’s lives.”

Today, Hettie is a children’s pastor at Cypress Point Church, a nondenominational congregation in Thonotosassa, Fla., and is married to Dean Reule, the head pastor.

Charles, meanwhile, is a pilot for FedEx, having developed a passion for flying thanks to his father; during his time in Charlotte, Ed earned his pilot’s license, bought a plane, and eventually used it to take mission trips to South America and the Caribbean as a part of Waxhaw-based JAARS (Jungle Aviation and Radio Services), which helps bring Bible translation to remote jungle areas.

And not only did faith keep Ed and Margaret together for nearly six decades, but it was faith — at least in part, Charles said — that enabled them to be together in the end.

A happy ending amid tragedy

In the late ’90s, Ed retired from medicine and sold his practice, at which point he and Margaret relocated to their second home at Grandfather Golf and Country Club in Linville.

They both stayed physically active well into their 70s, with Margaret a regular at spin classes and on trails in the Blue Ridge Mountains, while Ed could often be found on either the tennis court or the golf course at their club. They both stayed philanthropically active, too: Hettie Reule said her parents grew to be huge supporters of Grandfather Home for Children, hosting fundraisers and accompanying children who lived there on outings.

But three years ago — soon after moving to a retirement community in Germantown, Tenn., where their son Charles lives with his wife Lisa — their health began a slow decline. Son-in-law Dean Reule said Margaret suffered from rheumatoid arthritis, while Ed developed Parkinson’s disease.

Last November, the couple moved from the independent-living part of the community to an assisted-living area, and in March, as COVID-19 became a real threat, their family knew Ed and Margaret’s underlying conditions would put them at high risk were they exposed to it.

Their understanding is that the staff took all of the necessary precautions, but that an asymptomatic individual came into contact with Ed and Margaret.

Margaret fell seriously ill first, developing a high fever, and was admitted into Baptist Memorial on April 6.

When Ed was admitted for critical care, too, five days later, there happened to be an open room right next door. But as straightforward as it might sound, someone couldn’t just wave a magic wand and get him set up there. Charles said the nurse who’d been caring for Margaret aggressively pushed to get him assigned to an open room right next door, and that his family prayed equally hard that the hospital would sign off on it.

“A lot of things had to fall into place,” he said.

Added daughter Hettie Reule: “It was, really, a beautiful thing.”

After Ed arrived, even though they were only maybe a dozen feet apart, they never got to look into each other’s eyes again. They never got to hold each other’s hands.

But knowing they were so close brought smiles to both of their faces, and for the first 48 hours that they were “together” — just one wall apart and still lucid — nurses would deliver photos and relay messages between the couple that would make them smile even more. (Said daughter-in-law Lisa Powe: “The nurses called and said, ‘Oh my gosh, we’re all so emotional up here. It’s just like ‘The Notebook.’ It’s such a beautiful love story.’”)

“It was special to us,” Charles said, “that ... the nurses were so wonderful and caring and brave to be there with them, and to help us and to fight for us and understand (the pain of) losing two ... within several days of each other.”

And there’s another silver lining, too.

Since both husband and wife slipped into unconscious states around the same time, for whatever it might be worth, Ed never had to bear the news that Margaret was gone.

It’s not just a comfort to their family, but a genuine joy, to think that the last memory of Margaret that Ed brought with him to heaven was her smile.