When The Diagnosis Is Alzheimer's
It is at once a tired cliche' and a terrible truism that life isn't fair. None of us are safe from calamity. But sometimes, fate seems to take a wicked swipe at very good people in the worst way. I read with sadness and respect the letter that Ronald Reagan wrote when he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. Odd, I thought, and awful that those who have lived such rich and colorful lives should be deprived of the memories of such a journey.
But life isn't fair. As I sit here, struggling to put into words feelings that are caught in my throat, I think it would be best to just state it: So it is with my Dad's permission that I pass along his recent diagnosis of Alzheimer's. We've suspected, but we now have confirmation. As with most things, Dad has taken things with grace and humor. He said he can't remember what it was he was supposed to forget, so with that characteristic smile, he sees it as a simplification of life in general. Plus, he looks forward to hiding his own easter eggs anytime of the year he feels like it. Dad's wit is still very much alive, as evidenced by our recent discussion on whether or not the Christmas song, "God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman" was in fact an act of discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation (the word Merry being of dubious meaning). But the little things,…what day of the week it is, or the need to repeat information several times in a conversation, betray the insidious nature of the disease.
I find myself thinking of the unfairness, of course. Here is a person who has served our country in uniform, who served God and others while in the ministry, who leaves in his wake a sea of smiles and laughter at his ebullient personality and effervescent humor. A person whose father was a share cropper's son, whose family is overflowing with colorful stories and hilarious people, who at the age of 71, has every right to look back on a life well lived and simply chuckle at the memories,..and here is a disease that will rob him of that priceless treasure. And rob his family of enjoying those memories with him. That my friends, simply isn't fair.
I read in the Good Book that we won't be given more than we can bear,..and that all things work to the good for those who love Him. I believe it to be true and yet,….and yet I find myself asking why. It's not an improper question, is it? The inquisitive nature was instilled in me by the Almighty after all, so why should it be blasphemy to employ it?
"Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?" Matthew 6:26
And even as The Savior showed his love for us, so too can we, as Dad's family, show our love and thanks for him by meeting his needs as events and circumstances dictate. Who knows what further bonds will strengthen, or how many more lives will be touched over time. I don't have the answers. Would to God that I did. But I do know that my Dad will not lack for care or the things he needs. I've seen that happen in at least one instance,…and it will not happen on my watch. There may come a point when he doesn't even know who we are,…but he will know that he is surrounded by people who love him and will spare no effort to insure his comfort and well being, and that is exactly as it should be. That's what family does.
- Comment (49)
- · Quote
- · UnfollowFollow (6)
Comments :
May '10
Re: When The Diagnosis Is Alzheimer's
Dave, I weep, and I pray, for you and your father. I weep not only because of the beauty and the frank honesty of your writing. I weep also because my own father died in January of this year, and I mourn for you the loss of the experience I had. Dad had a mild heart attack in mid-December last year and died in mid-January. But he was alert and cogent right to his last hours.
Less than a month before he died Dad wrote:
My dearly beloved ones,
Not very many guys get to this stage of life and are able to receive such wonderful affirmation from the people who mean the very most to them. ...No man has ever had the good things, the things that really count in life that I've had, beginning with my commitment to Jesus Christ at the age of 17. He has been with me every step of the way, guiding, nudging, and encouraging. ...And, speaking of all of you ... each of you playing your special part in my heart... I take a special kind of pride in the differences and similarities between you.
May '10
Re: When The Diagnosis Is Alzheimer's
(Curse the 200 word limit.)
And as the end drew close for Dad, I wrote to all his email addresses:
I have to tell you that Dad has maintained his good sense of style and taste right to the end. Yesterday evening, just before we left, Dad said, Im starving. I asked if he wanted something to eat. He replied, Id like an In-N-Out cheeseburger. ;-) Being a dutiful son, I promptly went and got him one. Unfortunately, his appetite was no match for his imagination. But he did get a little down.
...So Dads remaining life is measured in hours, not days.
This is not a time to be sad though we will assuredly miss him, this is a time to rejoice and be glad. The good and faithful servant is about to receive his reward and enter into the joy of {his] Master. He is entering the home stretch. His Lord is about to bestow his rewards. And his bride of 65 years is beaming: she will hear his voice for the first time in over a decade, as he sings his Saviors praise.
So join us as we cheer him across the line
May '10
Re: When The Diagnosis Is Alzheimer's
Dave, you and your family will remain in my prayers that you will find much to give thanks for even in the Valley of the Shadow of Death.
Tom
And if you're ever in Sacramento, dinner's on me.
May '10
Re: When The Diagnosis Is Alzheimer's
Blessings to you and Dad, of course, Dave. That disease is one we need to fix. I am every day older and every day more aware of Alzheimer's, especially since I deal with that specific research a lot in my professional life.
Jun '10
Re: When The Diagnosis Is Alzheimer's
Dave, you know you have our prayers and good thoughts for your father, you, and your family.
Re: When The Diagnosis Is Alzheimer's
Same here, Dave.
Re: When The Diagnosis Is Alzheimer's
Folks, I had late night drive last night. Otherwise I would have been much more active on this thread. Reading over your comments, I'm reminded of a little story that made the rounds after Katrina: Seems a gentleman was stuck on his rooftop as the flood waters rose. A man came by in a boat and offered to rescue him. He declined, saying, "God will provide." Next came a Coast Guard boat, but the man refused, saying, "God will provide." He gave the same answer when a National Guard helicopter offered a rescue. The waters rose. He drowned. In heaven, he asked God, "Why didn't you provide?" God replied, "Well, dummy, I sent two boats and a helicopter." Your comments, each in your own way, are lifelines to my family and I. Truly, Ricochet is a blessing in so many ways. Thank you all so very much.
Apr '11
Re: When The Diagnosis Is Alzheimer's
Dave, I'm late to this.
I will share that my father, like yours, a veteran (Dad was on bloody Omaha leading his gun crew) - and a man beloved for his gentle kindness by his seven children and anyone who met him . . . was diagnosed with Lou Gehrigs's Disease at 71.
You probably know that this terrible disease kills most within a year. I will spare you the heart-rending details of watching him lose the ability to move, speak, swallow and finally - breathe.
What I will share with you is a joke that he told us that helped him with the unanswerable question of why he was afflicted and sentenced to die.
It isn't satisfying, but at least - by its absurdity - it ends useless breast-beating and ameliorates the tendency to see the affliction as punishment.
As Dad told it:
A man who is diagnosed with a fatal disease goes into the church to pray. He kneels in the front pew, and wails, 'Why God! Why me?'
A voice booms through the nave, 'Because you piss me off!" '
Dad laughed at that. Truly. There are no answers to the unanswerable . . .
Then Dad finally ended with, "Why not me?"
Apr '11
Re: When The Diagnosis Is Alzheimer's
(continued)
I think he'd seen so much in his life . . . the bodies of young men stacked like cordwood on the beach . . that having lived his full seven decades - he wasn't going to approach his own death filled with bitter self-pity.
I miss him every day.
My heart goes out to you, your father and family. But I rejoice in the love and strength that will sustain your father through this passage. It, finally, is the only answer we may have here on earth.