As Alzheimer’s continues its quest to consume Linda’s personality and eventually claim her life, in order to remain relevant, I remind myself she is on a journey she cannot control; and I can best serve her by directing from the sidelines. The whimsical look on her face in the picture accompanying today’s blog captures the essence of the challenge. Years ago, in my normal and methodical approach to life, quite sure that I could figure out this unwelcome intruder, I focused on finding markers that would clearly define where we were in the journey. To my dismay, I soon learned that the widely accepted three stages are painted with large strokes for a very good reason: No two Alzheimer’s patients manifest the same behaviors. Furthermore, a single Alzheimer’s patient will not consistently manifest the same behaviors on a daily basis. Therefore, I transitioned to a practical approach that has worked well: She is the teacher and I am the student. Surprisingly, in the process the two of us have grown in our devotion to Christ; and I have been given the privilege of assisting the unsung heroes who are on the front lines of the battle — caregivers. This week, I will focus my thoughts on two questions and a wonderful assurance.

Where Do You Live?

This horrible disease affects every facet of a sufferer’s life, including the capacity to conceptualize relationships, space, time and dimension. With Linda, this was first noticeable in asking questions such as: Where have you been? How did we get separated? Why did you leave me?  Do you have a wife? Do you have a mother? Do you know the Lord? After moving into Legacy Village, a new question emerged, moved to the forefront, and remains constant to this day. She often asks me, sometimes several times in one visit, “Where do you live?” Following my guideline to answer every question as if it were being asked for the first time, I try to determine intent and not complicate the issue with details. While living at our old home, my answer was, “About a mile away, so I can visit you each day.” Two years ago, after downsizing to a townhouse, my answer became, “About five miles away, so I can visit you each day.” She is not inquiring about a street address or even a city. Instead, all of these questions are tied together by a need to connect with the world around her. Even though she cannot conceptualize what she is feeling, much less express it to others, at the core of her being, she is aware that wholeness has been replaced by fragmentation.

Where Am I?

Last Wednesday’s visit was very special. For nearly an hour Linda and I held hands, watched Christian videos, and sang along with the different artists. Not surprisingly, she asked, “Where do you live?” I gave my customary answer.  And, as usual, she smilingly accepted my response; however, about five or ten minutes later, she asked, “Where am I?”  This was a question she had never asked before. I responded, “You are in Legacy Village. I cared for you at home as long as I could. Then some wonderful people built this facility, and I was able to get you admitted so you could be cared for by people who love you. Isn’t God good?” She smiled sweetly and agreed.

The next day, following her normal pattern, she asked me several times where I lived. One time, after giving my normal answer, displaying an unusual ability to express herself, she said, “I hope they will let me be with you.” Choosing not to provide an opportunity for her to experience insecurity, I indirectly answered by assuring her, “When the Lord comes, we will spend eternity together in Heaven.”

As the disease progresses, in an effort to accommodate her declining capacity to conceptualize, I have focused my efforts upon helping Linda feel secure and loved. As her time on earth nears completion, I am intentionally directing her attention toward the perfection that awaits her when this life is over.

A Wonderful Assurance!

On August 9, 2018, physically sick and struggling with the knowledge that Linda would soon be leaving our home to become a resident at Legacy Village, I underlined the verses below and wrote in my Bible, “I claimed this after a very difficult day!”

Lord, you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.

I will praise the Lord, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me. I have set the Lord always before me. Because he is at my right hand, I will not be shaken (Psalm 16:5-8 NIV).