A Grace of Alzheimer’s: a lesson in suffering

My heart was recently challenged by reading a book from the Heroes of Faith series – the biography of Watchman Nee by Bob Laurent. I was so moved and inspired by this man’s faith, his godly wisdom, and courage in the midst of persecution and trials of life greater than I will ever experience. So challenged was I by his life and teaching that I found myself yearning to learn more from him. I reserved two books written by Nee through my local library: “The Normal Christian Life” and “The Character of God’s Workman,” and am currently reading the later.

I take a book with me when I go to the gym each morning, having purposed in my heart to use this time to exercise my body and feed my heart, mind and soul too. I have come to treasure this precious time…an hour on an exercise bike is over before I know it. As I pedaled and read today, something in chapter 3 made me think of my dear mother.  In this chapter, Nee speaks on 1 Peter 4:1, regarding our Lord’s attitude toward suffering and its admonition for Christians to have the same attitude and mind as Christ in our various earthly encounters with suffering. Nee notes that many Christians who encounter trials in life find themselves side-lined, withdrawing from serving Christ. Nee challenges the Christian reader by saying:

“No one who serves the Lord may stay home during rain and go forth only after the sun comes out. If you have the mind to suffer, then you will work on in spite of privation, difficulty, pain, sickness, or even approaching death.”

I immediately thought of my mom when I read that bit today, causing me to reflect on some of the ways she handled the trials in life.

When she was faced with having to take early retirement from her nursing job due to budget cuts the county was facing, my mom rejoiced. Now she could serve the Lord more in her local church.

My parents’ ministry to their family also carried on – cancer, headaches, bad knees and all. Where most retired couples have empty bedrooms, my parents had a steady stream of children and grandchildren occupying those rooms. It didn’t matter if they were out of a job, or cash-poor students, there was a bed with clean sheets, and a fridge full of favorite foods.

Each time my Dad faced a cancer diagnosis (five different cancers in his lifetime), mom was by his side for his surgeries and treatments. She could have used that as a perfectly plausible reason to back out of her ministries, but she kept on serving in the church, working her ministries around helping him. She also encouraged my dad to persevere in his church attendance and ministry as long as he was able. Only the final debilitating scourge of sarcoma took my dad away from his volunteering as a handyman at his church, and as a driver and treasurer for Christian League for the Handicapped.

When my dad died, my dear mother grieved, but she didn’t wallow in her grief and discontinue her ministries. Quite the contrary! She and a friend who was also a recent widow set their minds and hearts toward forming a ministry to other widows and widowers.

As I look back over her numerous notepads and journals that I packed when she made her move from Milwaukee, I can see that she was aware her memory was failing long before it became noticeable to anyone else. If I read between the lines, I can see there was a certain amount of fear that came with the awareness of memory loss and where it might lead. Knowing that her memory was fading didn’t stop her from serving in her many ministries. Even when the disease reared its ugly head enough for her friends to take notice, she never said, “How can I possibly take on the Lord’s work when I can’t even care for myself?”

Though my mother certainly had a “mind to suffer” in whatever hard things life threw her way, there did come a time when Alzheimer’s dealt a life-altering blow. The day came when driving to church was no longer an option. Another day came when planning anything was an insurmountable obstacle. Then, a time when remembering names was an impossibility. Everything about life was changing and becoming very hard. Only then did her ministries begin to fall away – not because she wanted them to, but because it was time.

Even now, in this time of life “approaching death,” I see in my sweet mother’s life yet another “grace of Alzheimer’s” – the grace of Christ-like suffering.

 

A ‘Grace’ of Alzheimers: Leftovers

I like to do a bit of cooking and puttering in the kitchen in the first part of the week. I may even do a bit of baking. But, unless we’re expecting company, my fun in the kitchen only lasts until Wednesday or Thursday. That’s okay though. Weekends are made for leftovers. Continue reading “A ‘Grace’ of Alzheimers: Leftovers”

Disappearing Friendships

I caught a glimpse of an old friend at the gym today. I don’t think she saw me pedaling away on an exercise bike while she attended a nearby group exercise class. My face immediately smiled when I saw her, then my heart sank with sadness just as quickly. You see, my friend had walked out on our friendship a few years ago. I never understood why.

I still don’t.

I’m usually pretty timid and non-confrontational – but, as I pedaled, I imagined myself boldly giving my old friend the “what-for.” How could she just leave? Never look back? Never say good-bye? Never again tell me that she loved me and cherished our friendship?

Of course, I didn’t really say it.

Today’s ‘disappearing friend’ experience made me wonder about the friends and family who ‘disappear’ from my mom’s life in her world living with the debilitating effects of Alzheimer’s. As her memories fade, recollection of friendships forged over many years vanish too. Some of her dear family and friends still send cards. She loves to receive them in the mail (and will read them over and over again, each time as if it is the first), but she really can’t remember the person who sent the card. Sometimes a tiny glimmer of recognition glistens in her eyes if I pull out old pictures, or show her that friend’s photos on Facebook, or retell a story she once told me about this friend.

Not a care in the world when you’re coloring!

Alzheimer’s is cruel. But, I’m thinking it may also be a form of grace in old age. You see, my encounter today with my own disappearing friendship brought up lingering feelings of deep hurt and resentment, highlighting my own need to exercise forgiveness in relationships. With Alzheimer’s, my momma’s hurt feelings last only for a moment. Then she picks up a coloring book and her colored pencils and the hurt just vanishes.

I am not alone

The more I write about my journey as a daughter and Alzheimer’s caregiver, the more I realize I am not alone on this bumpy road. Since I began journaling on Facebook two years ago, and now on my blog, I have been amazed by the number of friends, family and readers who have shared that they have been or are on a similar journey in life.

James 1I shouldn’t be surprised. When I open the pages of my Bible to the book of James, I am reminded in the very first chapter that “trials of various kinds” are to be expected. They are, in fact, necessary in the growing process of producing a steadfast faith.

James even says that I am to “count it all joy” when these trials, testings and troubles in life come my way. Now, I don’t think James was necessarily talking the laugh until your sides split kind of joy, but the inner confidence that radiates from within knowing that, with God, I’m going to make it through this and be stronger in the end. It’s the complete trust that this trial or test will give me an opportunity to grow, to stretch my faith, to seek His wisdom, and to demonstrate to a watching world by my actions that my religion is not vain or worthless, and that my God is nothing short of awesome.

I am further reminded in 1 Corinthians 10:13 that “no temptation has seized me, except what is common to man.” My Bible study companion these days has been Dr. Joseph M. Stowell’s book, The Upside of Down, subtitled, “Finding Hope When it Hurts.” He tells me that the word “temptation” in this verse comes from the same group of words as the word “trials” in James 1:2, and that it could also be translated “troubles.”

My “trouble” or “trial” in life at the moment is being a caregiver to my mother who struggles with Alzheimer’s. It would be foolish for me to think that I am alone on this journey. In addition to having the Lord with me, there are countless others who have been here before me. I need only look in the “comments” section of my blog or on Facebook, or to the private messages I receive from those who do not want to comment in public, to know that there are many others who even now are on the road with me. A plenitude of websites and Facebook pages are devoted to those who are facing the trial of caring for someone with dementia. I currently am part of a support group at www.myALZteam.com, whose stated purpose is to provide a social network for family and friends caring for a loved one with Alzheimer’s. I write about my journey for them – and for those who are yet to sojourn here too.

If you are suffering through a trial, rest assured, what you’re going through is common to others. You can find someone else who has been there. My trial is the sometimes brutal and heart-rending task of taking care of Momma, a trial which pales in comparison to the trials of many others I know. Yours might be the devastating loss of a child, or estrangement from a spouse of many years. Perhaps it is the fear of the unknown due to a job loss, a scary medical diagnosis, or a financial upheaval. Or, just this week in the news, the many who suffered a sudden tragedy or loss at the hands of someone whose mindset was diabolically evil. No matter what your trial might be, look for someone who has been there before – someone who brought glory to God in the end.

Maybe you’re the one who is already on the other end of that trial – already experiencing the joy in seeing how God was at work in your life – securely resting in the knowledge that the trial was for your good and God’s glory. If that’s you, please reach out to someone who is still trudging forward in the muck and mire of their personal journey with pain. Put your hand on their shoulder and tell them that you understand. You’ve been there. For you, my friend, are the one who can honestly say from your heart, “Let’s talk. Let’s pray about this together. We’ll get through this together, by God’s grace and for His glory.”

Trusting in God When Mountains Crumble

This morning Momma emerged from her room carrying a photograph and a ballpoint pen. She had an all too familiar look of confusion on her face as she shuffled walker-less to her place at the kitchen table. As she gingerly turned herself and plopped hard in her chair she lamented, “I just can’t remember anything today. What day it is, what time it is, who I am, why I’m here. It’s all so confusing. And who is this in this picture?”

I took a peek at the picture to see if I could help. It was one of the pictures my sister had been wondering about. The photo, along with a handful of other pictures of Viv’s children in their growing up years, had mysteriously disappeared during her last visit with Momma. Knowing Mom’s propensity to hide things, Viv had texted asking me to keep an eye out for the photos. I had found the others, but had missed this one.

“That’s your grandson Scotty when he was a boy. He’s a daddy himself now.” Momma sat silently studying the picture for a few moments, willing her mind to remember, but obviously drawing a blank. “Oh, no! I wrote on the back of it!”

Momma’s handwriting was definitely on the back of it, and the picture had been ruined by the tell-tale ballpoint markings. Momma had used the photo as if it were a piece of scrap paper, copying what she had read off of the face of the clock in her bedroom. Momma tried to reconcile what she had written on the photo with what she saw on the clock on the microwave. “No, it’s supposed to be 7:13, not 7:30!”

There was no point in trying to explain that time changes by the second. This was one of those moments in Momma’s changing world of Alzheimer’s where I could almost feel another piece of Momma’s mind slipping away.

I asked Momma if she remembered her name. She assured me she knew it, but wouldn’t say it. I prompted, “Of course, you know you’re Charlotte Peet Boyles.” She looked relieved at the reminder of what her name was as she nodded her head in agreement. I smiled at Momma in an effort to encourage and calm her, but on the inside, I cried knowing she was fearful of what was happening to her.

I find comfort in knowing I am not alone in this phase of life. I follow a blog called “God’s Grace and Mom’s Alzheimer’s.” The author’s own Mama had gone Home to be with Jesus in December of 2016, after a long battle with Alzheimer’s. Cheryl had been there with her through it all. Now, her mother-in-law lives with her, traveling a similar path in life. Today’s post met me where I am. I share it (click on the link below) for those of you who are in a similar place in life right now – in need of a reminder of God’s grace in the midst of a seemingly impossible trial.

Source: Trusting in God When Mountains Crumble