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What Alzheimer’s Cannot Do – Part 6

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Alzheimer’s cannot destroy faith.Praying_Hands

During a Thanksgiving weekend several years ago, I visited Mom at the assisted living facility. It was Sunday and per her usual practice, she wanted to go to church.

So she dressed up, picked up her Bible and we walked down the hall toward the dining room. A visiting pastor had volunteered to preach a brief sermon and lead these elderly saints in worship.

The room was filled with Alzheimer’s and dementia residents in various stages of the disease – beautiful shades of white and gray hair, curly perms and a few shining bald heads of the rare men in the crowd.

The pastor kept his words brief, then we sang some of the favorite hymns: “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” “Amazing Grace,” “When We All Get to Heaven.”

Most of the residents hummed along, some fell asleep, a few still knew some of the words. I sang lustily, my mezzo soprano blending with the bass of the pastor. My mother remembered some of the lyrics and hummed through the rest.

Then the pastor said, “Please join me as we all recite Psalm 23.”

I thought, You must be kidding, buddy. These people can’t recite a passage of Scripture. They can barely remember their names.

But they surprised me.

I watched them and listened as around the room – every single resident recited word for word the precious Shepherd’s Psalm.

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.”

The King James version, with none of them missing a beat.

“He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul.”

How many of them prayed that God would restore their lives, do a miracle in their bodies and release them from this disease, this long and tragic goodbye?

“He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.”

A righteous life includes reading the word of God and hiding those words in their hearts so that when the end of life comes, when those final years flip over onto the calendar, these residents would hang on to what really matters.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”

These saints understood the Psalm better than I because they live within that valley. I could see it in their eyes, in the faces accessorized with wisdom-carrying wrinkles. They knew this valley and only God could help them walk through it unafraid. And they believed he would comfort them along the way and never leave them alone.

“Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.”

Food no longer provided comfort because the appetite was gone, the taste buds had forgotten a favorite flavor or the joy of family meals. Yet smiles surfaced around the group – maybe a dim remembrance of God’s anointing on a life, the cup of joy that once ran over and now waited for its fulfillment.

“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

My mother, her voice clear, her eyes bright – solid in her faith and waiting for her timeline to end.

Each one of them in the room, recited what they believed. I could not speak. Tears choked me as I realized there’s a place deep within us, a sanctuary of the soul that cannot be stolen by whatever is happening in the brain.

Alzheimer’s cannot and will never destroy faith.

Amen and amen.

©2015 RJ Thesman – Author of the Reverend G books http://amzn.to/1rXlCyh

Reverend G Strikes Again

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With the release of “Intermission for Reverend G” and the signed contract for the third book in the series, I thought the petite minister with Alzheimer’s might slip out of my subconscious. I’m already ten chapters into another novel, a completely different type of book where nobody struggles with Alzheimer’s – yet.

Intermission 3D Cover-1You never know what a character might do.

So the other night, I was minding my own business and just finished reading a Psalm before I laid down. I fluffed my pillows, petted the cat and checked to make sure the alarm clock was set.

Then I started my prayers, but there she was – interrupting my prayers no less. This sweet little woman minister as clear as a bell in my head, visited me again and demanded to be heard.

So I listened. Reverend G stood somewhere in that place in the brain where characters live – her long white braid slung over her shoulder and Gabriel in her arms. In the late stages of Alzheimer’s, I wondered what she could possibly tell me.

Maybe another phrase I could use in the rewrite of the third book in the series? Maybe a clue about one of the other characters – somebody she wanted to converse with? Or maybe she had some wonderful spiritual nugget she wanted to share, something that might help a reader and also might add value to my soul.

I listened carefully to my beloved main character and could hardly believe what happened. Maybe it was the Alzheimer’s pulling a trick on both of us. I don’t know.

But as clear as a bell, Reverend G sang, “You’ve got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away, know when to run….”

The rest of Kenny Rogers’ hit song faded in the background as Reverend G turned around and carried Gabriel to – wherever characters go to wait until they visit the subconscious of the writer again.

Really. You just never know what a character is going to do.

©2014 RJ Thesman – “Intermission for Reverend G” – http://amzn.to/1l4oGoo

When Life Unravels

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Sometimes writers struggle to find the right titles for their books. They highlight important words, search through a dictionary or wait until inspiration knocks at the door of their creative souls. Finally, amidst weeping and gnashing of teeth – they settle on a group of words that seems to tell their story yet also invites intrigue.

For my book, “The Unraveling of Reverend G,” the title floated through my brain just as easily as the first 20,000 words. I was so pleased my publisher, Cross River Media, decided to keep the title, because it seemed to state exactly what happens when Alzheimer’s sets up its brutal residence in a brain.

The dictionary explains “unravel” as “to disengage or separate the threads of, to cause to come apart.”

That is a perfect picture of what happens to Alzheimer’s patients. They gradually begin to disengage – from their passions, their routines and their families. As they lose the ability to remember faces or traditions, they shrink away from reality. They become separate from themselves, from the people they once were and the productivity they once enjoyed. They come apart. They unravel.

I have seen this happen to my father and now to my mother. With Dad, speech unraveled until he had only the most basic of words. Then finally, even those disappeared as he forgot how to make sounds. With Mom, speech patterns still remain lucid and clear, but her eyes hold fear and her routines hide like shadows of the past.

In my book, Reverend G begins to unravel as the most commonplace joys change. She forgets a key word in the Lord’s Prayer, and she begins to wonder when she will lose the names and faces of those she loves. Somehow, she finds joy in the everyday-ness of life although she secretly fears she may forget the Lord she serves. She unravels, yet all around her, people find encouragement through her bold desire to keep on trying.

As the daughter of Alzheimer’s and dementia victims, another definition of “unravel” gives me hope. This definition moves scientists forward “to resolve the intricacy, complexity or obscurity” of a subject, “to clear up or unravel a mystery.”

That is my hope and the desire of every caregiver who puts in a 36-hour day. That someone, somewhere will unravel the mystery of Alzheimer’s and make it go away.