A successful journey requires building upon past history, engaging the present, and moving toward a clearly defined destination. Nearly a decade ago, while Linda’s mental capabilities were still largely intact, we revisited our spiritual heritage and searched for ways to keep our hope in God alive. Now, I am increasingly aware that, in all probability, I will have to complete the last leg of the journey without my best friend. With that in mind, I will pay attention to the three facets of our journey.

Past History

This week as I considered what life will be like without Linda, God directed my attention to a somewhat obscure portion of scripture: …to my sorrow Rachel died in the land of Canaan while we were still on the way, a little distance from Ephrath. So I buried her there beside the road to Ephrath… (Genesis 48:7 NIV). Working within the space limitations of a blog does not allow me to provide the exegesis this scripture deserves. Therefore, let it suffice to say, addressing his son Joseph, recognizing that his own death was near, and continuing to grieve over Rachel, Jacob focuses on the business at hand: passing hope to his descendants. 

Present Engagement

Immersed in the technology of our day, distracted by the busyness surrounding me, and focusing on my own pain, I almost passed over something very important: Jacob, all those centuries ago, suffered the loss of a son, grieved over the death of the love of his life, and yet stayed true to his God-ordained mission to pass hope to his descendants. I am called to do likewise! As recorded in my journal, here are the highlights of one week in our journey:

Sunday – Several times during our visit, I saw indications of decline. When trying to express herself, Linda could not make any meaningful connections. She has done this before; however, it was more pronounced today. Summing up my feelings, I told the Lord, “I am ready for You to take her home. I am aware, as much as I can be, how hard that is going to be. I must have Your strength and provision each step of the way! Above everything else, I want Your will to be done in all things, including how long You wish for her to remain on this earth.”

Tuesday – When I arrived, Linda was sitting in the Activities Room asleep at a table. I gently awakened her and asked if she would like to go walking. She nodded, “Yes,” but had a hard time getting up. One of her caregivers told me she had been having difficulty walking. I stayed much longer than I usually do because she told me she was tired, could not remember, and wanted me to stay. In thinking over the evening, I concluded: “The caregivers may feel my having stayed so long made their job harder. If so, they may be right. Before the pandemic, I often stayed late and occasionally put her to bed. At that time, the caregivers seemed to appreciate my help; however, circumstances and Linda’s condition have changed. I will give this further consideration. I want to bless Linda, be a part of the solution, and never the problem.”

Wednesday – Linda’s youngest sister Cheri told me, “Linda needed assistance in getting up, walked very slowly, held on to me for support, and even though she did not know me, she hugged me several times.” However, the most significant part of their visit centered on a single exchange: Cheri told Linda, “Your hands look just like Mother’s.” She then asked, “Would you like to see Mother and Daddy?” Linda looking straight at Cheri, responded, “It won’t be long.” When Cheri related this to me, I told her, “I BELIEVE LINDA IS OPERATING IN THE SPIRIT IN A WAY THAT WE CANNOT UNDERSTAND.”

Friday – Our son Michael and I visited Linda. After telling her, “This is your oldest son Michael,” she smiled and gave him a hug. It is doubtful that she recognized him and this hurts deeply. At the same time, watching her response to videos of his children and dog brought me great joy. Fully engaged in the present, she was having a great time and Michael was the source of her blessing. I will never forget, as we were walking out, Michael stayed behind, waved and said, “Bye, Bye Mom.”

Glorious Destination

Walter Brueggmann, succinctly depicts reaching the end of this life without God: “The collapse of tradition and memory, of community and hope, has made death an acutely private crisis for which individual persons lack resources.” Conversely, resting upon historical “Truth,” immersed in community, and in the midst of advanced Alzheimer’s, hope sounds loudly as Linda prepares to authenticate Paul’s assertion: Death has been swallowed up in victory!