Back in Oxford, Joy underwent additional surgery, wrote letters, and played scrabble with Jack. But the end was drawing near. On July 13, Joy awoke screaming in agony. Lewis took her to the hospital, where the last few hours of her life ebbed painfully away. Joy hung onto her sense of humor until the end.
Posh coffins are all rot.
She died that evening. The Hound of Heaven that relentlessly pursued Joy is now making sure the world will not forget the remarkable things He achieved in her life. Joy's excellent book, Smoke on the Mountain, is still taught in many a college classroom. Her influence also runs through several of Lewis's volumes, especially Till We Have Faces and The Four Loves. In, were sold in England alone.