The Dresser Top

Yesterday, I arrived at a home dedicated to the care of Alzheimer's patients a little early. One by one,  I greeted the gentle people who had been gathered, including one woman whom I did not remember meeting.   She was quite cordial and said, "It is so nice to see you again. It has been far too long. I have your picture on my dresser."  With sincerity, I replied what an honor that was for me.

       

I am always grateful when a person with Alzheimer's is able to keep their spirit of hospitality and grace.  Not everyone can, and not everyone even had such a spirit before the advance of the disease.  I really do try not to romanticize neither about being an elder, nor the disease that is Alzheimer's.  Yet, as I move through the various homes, there are moments, such as this one, of poignancy and grace.  I am not only touched, I am changed.      

   

My picture, of course, does not sit on the top of Betsy's dresser. However, there must be, or was at one time, a picture of someone that mattered to her.  As I sit here in the early morning light, I see my candles, chalice, and cross that are on my mantel.  I think of Jesus and I realize Betsy and I have something in common.   We may not know exactly who is in the picture, but what we are seeing gives us hope and goodwill, and we are able to carry those with us, at least most of the time.

I must give thanks.  Not for disease or for the suffering, but that we do not go into either alone. 

  

They are like trees 

planted by streams of water, 

which yield their fruit in its season,

and their leaves do not wither. 

In all that the do, they prosper. 

                                                 Psalm 1:3