New Diagnosis - Not a New Condition

My mother has been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. While the diagnosis is new, it has become evident to me that we have been going down this path for many years. The doctors finally told us what we refused to see.

The first symptoms appeared not long after my daddy and brother died in November of 2003. I have spent the years since explaining away her behavior. She spent those same years covering her increasing inabilities. My frustration was only exceeded by her own. The diagnoses came when I could no longer offer excuses and she could no longer cover. I have entered a new kind of grief with the realization that she will never be better.

But in church this morning, I experienced hope. Mother reached for the pew Bible and began looking for Psalm 23 with the rest of the congregation. I did not offer to help as previous attempts had embarrassed her but I watched while she was in Psalms, then not, then back again. She could not find the scripture before time to read. My heart ached. With my Bible in hand we stood and the preacher read. Immediately I heard Mother, in a whispered voice, quoting the twenty-third Psalm as the preacher read. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I had a time of personal worship.

I do not understand why she can no longer find scripture in her Bible. I do not understand how she cannot remember how to spell my name or how she can think I am her oldest child. I do not understand how she can no longer do the crossword puzzles she has done my whole life. I do not understand why she does not remember how to crochet or sew or make dressing. I do not understand why she thinks someone will steal her remote control. But I praise God that His Word is embedded deep in her heart so she can still quote scripture. I praise Him for the peace on her face when she remembers and sings those old hymns. If she forgets everything else I do not think she will ever forget Him . . . and praise God, I know He will never forget her!

“Just wait until he says your name!”

Nancy’s comment was an eager attempt to give me a glimpse of the delight I could look forward to as a grandmother. I was still relatively new in the role and she had a few years experience. Like so many things about being a grandparent, I did not yet understand the magnitude of the words she spoke.

But now . . . Samuel, who just turned one, has eyes that light up with recognition when he sees me. James who is almost two just recently moved from calling me “Naa” to “Nana.” (I love both!) Jonathan, almost three, exclaims “Nana’s here!” when I knock at his door. With each expression of recognition I think my heart will explode.

Last month, I had a birthday. Leah called and while we talked, Jonathan asked for the phone. “Happy Birthday Nana!” he said. No prompting, no suggestions from Mommy, just the heart of a little boy. Silent tears rolled down my face. I have watched these sweet boys move from imitating their parents’ words, to answering questions about “Who’s got you?” to acting on their own recognition and love for me. I am abundantly blessed.

What a peek into God’s heart! We learn to say the name of Jesus, pray at the prompting of a preacher or teacher, and sing praises to Him at church. I think that surely makes God smile. But when we speak His sweet name without prompting, acting on our own recognition and love for Him, oh how it must please Him! I hope so. Happy Birthday Jesus! We love you!

We are all well and pray you are too.

Merry Christmas!

Marilyn and Jerre

JP, Samuel, Leah, Jonathan, Stephen, Kassi and James

Ministry To Me

I woke up at 6:30 AM each morning while I was in Kenya. Monday was no different except that I woke up with Marian on my mind. Marian, a dear friend, was married to Ed who had been diagnosed with cancer a relatively short time earlier. I believed the Holy Spirit brought them to my mind as a call to prayer and responded obediently. However, as the day went on my thoughts were continually brought back to Marian.

While on a long bumpy van ride on Monday afternoon, I shared my thoughts with Patty, one of the other team members. I told her about our friendship, about his cancer, about my first morning thoughts, and about how I could not get them off my mind. Then I said to her "I guess he really could even die while I am here in Kenya."

A few hours later, we went back to the orphanage. While we were laughing and playing with the children, I got a phone call. Ed had died at 10:30 Sunday night (6:30 Monday morning in Kenya).

I felt a strange mixture of both shock and confirmation of what I already knew and the tears came quickly. I went to a side room to process what I had just learned and was joined by Patty. She offered support. I cried. We prayed. 

As my mind returned to things in my presence, I noticed a sweet little girl peering around the corner with a look of concern. Apparently she had done that before and in my grief, I had not noticed. I gathered myself together and returned to where all the children were playing. She came to my side. We did not speak the same language but our hearts did not need words. At that moment, my heart needed compassion and hers wanted to give compassion. While my friends were on the other side of the world grieving together, my great big God ministered to me through an orphan who had experienced way too much pain and loss in her young life. The empathy of that child was like a soft warm blanket that God the Father wrapped around both of us.