Lord,
Two Saturdays ago, Adalheid and I
Went to the Alzheimer's Support Group monthly meeting
At Mountain View.
Thank You
For leading us there...
For giving us a forum
To share our emotions,
To hear others' stories,
To learn more about the disease,
And the resources available to us.
One of the facilitators
Gave us a care package,
And in the care package
Was a list of "do"s and "don't"s
For interacting with people
Who suffer from Alzheimer's.
A bullet point read:
"Step into their reality."
I dwelled on that long and hard
As I recapped the week,
And one of the evenings spent
Watching the wandering momma
While Adalheid and the king
Were out and about...
I was sitting in the living room.
The wanderer, who I thought was sleeping,
Came upstairs, sat down,
And talked with me for what was only an hour,
But felt much longer.
I listened to her tentatively walk through
The details of her life
In one long, meandering blur...
Names and places and jobs and events
Blending together into
A slipstream whole.
Details were lost.
Facts were garbled.
I nodded,
Mentally ticking off
The items she got right
And the ones she got wrong.
Who are we,
Except the compilation and interpretation
Of events that have impacted us?
Who, then, do we become,
As our pasts change?...
As our pasts become lost?...
As our pasts altogether vanish?...
Father,
Give me patience.
Give me the patience
To not exclaim in annoyance when I am awoken...
To not feel self-conscious when in the shower
And the momma wanders into the bathroom...
To sit and listen and try to understand
The momma's intent,
As opposed to the jumbled words
(A reflection of her jumbled thoughts)
That she often speaks.
Give me the patience
To observe and learn and anticipate and help
For the wandering momma's present needs...
And anyone else's possible future ones.
Give me the type of love
That made you stick by the Israelites
As they rebelled against you in the wilderness...
That made you continue to send prophets to them
Even though they were often killed...
That made you send your Son
As a sacrificial atonement
For the sins of a broken world.
Breathe your Goodness
Into me,
So that I may project it
Ever outwards
Into the lives entwined with mine...
Two Saturdays ago, Adalheid and I
Went to the Alzheimer's Support Group monthly meeting
At Mountain View.
Thank You
For leading us there...
For giving us a forum
To share our emotions,
To hear others' stories,
To learn more about the disease,
And the resources available to us.
One of the facilitators
Gave us a care package,
And in the care package
Was a list of "do"s and "don't"s
For interacting with people
Who suffer from Alzheimer's.
A bullet point read:
"Step into their reality."
I dwelled on that long and hard
As I recapped the week,
And one of the evenings spent
Watching the wandering momma
While Adalheid and the king
Were out and about...
I was sitting in the living room.
The wanderer, who I thought was sleeping,
Came upstairs, sat down,
And talked with me for what was only an hour,
But felt much longer.
I listened to her tentatively walk through
The details of her life
In one long, meandering blur...
Names and places and jobs and events
Blending together into
A slipstream whole.
Details were lost.
Facts were garbled.
I nodded,
Mentally ticking off
The items she got right
And the ones she got wrong.
Who are we,
Except the compilation and interpretation
Of events that have impacted us?
Who, then, do we become,
As our pasts change?...
As our pasts become lost?...
As our pasts altogether vanish?...
Father,
Give me patience.
Give me the patience
To not exclaim in annoyance when I am awoken...
To not feel self-conscious when in the shower
And the momma wanders into the bathroom...
To sit and listen and try to understand
The momma's intent,
As opposed to the jumbled words
(A reflection of her jumbled thoughts)
That she often speaks.
Give me the patience
To observe and learn and anticipate and help
For the wandering momma's present needs...
And anyone else's possible future ones.
Give me the type of love
That made you stick by the Israelites
As they rebelled against you in the wilderness...
That made you continue to send prophets to them
Even though they were often killed...
That made you send your Son
As a sacrificial atonement
For the sins of a broken world.
Breathe your Goodness
Into me,
So that I may project it
Ever outwards
Into the lives entwined with mine...
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