As an undergraduate student, enamored by all that education promised to a young man who had grown up in a blue-collar household, I was fascinated when one of my favorite professors defined philosophy, perhaps tongue in cheek, as “man’s attempt to scientifically befuddle himself.” Later, pursuing graduate studies in psychology, I dutifully learned befuddling classifications which were supposed to help me understand human behavior. Now, I believe that many of those classifications tend to obscure the reality that we really know very little about the root causes of human behavior, especially those which are Alzheimer’s induced. As Linda and I began our journey into the “Long Goodbye,” I desperately sought for definitive answers and a clearly marked roadmap which would lead to victory. Thankfully, I soon realized that what I needed more than a roadmap was a Guide and that Guide had been living in my heart since boyhood. Hold that thought! I will provide greater detail in the last paragraph!
After many years of serving as Linda’s primary caregiver, I am much more at ease evaluating past events than I am at predicting what is yet to come. In very broad strokes, thus far our journey into the unknown has had three loosely defined phases, with considerable overlap.
Keeping Her in My World
In the early years, when memory was the primary issue, my children developed two memory walls, one with pictures of our children and grandchildren, and one with pictures of Linda’s parents, siblings and their extended families. When she struggled with who she was and where she belonged, I became very adept at helping her return to my world. However, gradually those returns were of shorter duration.
Visiting in Her World
In this phase, Linda was the teacher and I was the student. This analogy is only partially correct; a better conceptualization would be to imagine her in a canoe being swept down a raging river, with no control over her destination. My responsibility was to stay as close as possible, attempt to determine what brought her pleasure or dismay, and intervene when needed or accepted. This phase was very difficult to navigate because she often did and said things which were completely out of character for her.
Enjoying Her World
While still caring for Linda at home, I was able to meet all of her physical needs, but I could not meet her social needs. She was living in a house which she had once skillfully decorated and managed; now, others had assumed her duties. After moving into Legacy Village, she quickly adapted to an environment filled with activities, and surrounded by people who had similar needs. For her, with complete confidence that she is loved and all her needs will be met, the things which once distracted her are no longer an issue. Conversely, for me, it is a bittersweet experience: In many ways, I have my wife back, and many of our visits, until recently, resembled life as I had once known it. However, at the end of each visit, I return to an empty house with the full awareness that I am never again going to drop off to sleep with the love of my life holding my hand.
As promised, here is the greater detail referenced in my opening remarks: “…what I needed more than a roadmap was a Guide and that Guide had been living in my heart since boyhood.” Throughout her long struggle with Alzheimer’s, Linda has never fit any profiles and I am not predicting when she will go Home; however, I sense, and circumstances clearly indicate, that she is being prepared and the Guide is instructing me to let go.
- The image accompanying today’s blog, symbolizes the multiple roads which are yet ahead as Linda spends her final days, weeks, or months on this earth. In the meantime, I rejoice in the assurance that the Guide will direct each step of her journey.
- The following excerpts from my journal, recorded last Tuesday and Wednesday nights, accurately depict my feelings: “It was difficult seeing her as she was tonight and not being able to do anything about it. I am asking God for His help!” “While leaving the building, I reminded God that He is the only One who truly knows how badly I hurt. After driving home, while sitting in my car in the garage, I wept and asked Him to show His mercy and favor to me. I cannot make it through this without Him. I hate sickness, disease, and death!”
- I am so thankful that God has made an irrevocable promise: “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” (Revelation 21:4 NIV).
Ron Harvard Ministries 