Nietzsche wrote of the “long obedience in the same direction.” Eugene Peterson used the phrase for a book title; a book I read many years ago. My beginning of reading his many books. But this is something different. This book, the one I am living now, is called a slow obedience in many directions. Slow because I travel with confusion, sorrow with uncertainty, experience insights that melt away as fast as they are gathered. Slow because I insist on his being as yesterday and fail to embrace his person now.
Many directions because he, Brad, my husband with Alzheimer’s,
is constantly different, constantly progressing backwards into something less
than childhood—a sweetness overlaid with fear—an insanity that grapples with
both sunshine and dark shadows. A forgetfulness that is sweeping away not only
now but all the yesterdays.
I have not written because of depression:
And that is too bad because I have read some excellent books
on dementia that I need to share. I will in a later post.
Too many nights Brad does not sleep. He unmakes the bed
and then tells me he is cold. He gets up looking for me—I leave a light on
because he fears the shadows. Tonight as I slipped into bed with him to read
the Scriptures before returning to some quiet evening time he cried—cried about
his condition. We talked about it as much as possible. I rarely understand him
and he does not often comprehend my words. But the Spirit helps. We talked of
the knowledge and knowing that will come to him when he is at last with Jesus. And
the scripture, (I read from a Gospel and a psalm most nights), was just right.
Only a psalm:
When the Lord
brought back the captivity of Zion,
We were like
those who dream.
Then our mouth
was filled with
Laughter,
And our tongue
with singing.
Then they said
among the nations,
“The Lord has done
great things for
Them.”
The Lord has
done great things for us,
And we are glad.
It is hard to feel it now. Hard to grasp that God will
turn our sorrow into joy. But He will. He will.
I love the song I am placing here because it reminds me of Brad who is now mostly blind and has trouble walking.
I love the song I am placing here because it reminds me of Brad who is now mostly blind and has trouble walking.
A Brazilian cousin of mine called it "um aprendizado dificil" - a difficult apprenticeship. I am sorry for the challenge you are facing and the sadness it brings. You are the depository of his memories now, and they are alive in you. And to the extent that we are the sum of our memories, and you and him are one, you are the part of him that remains alive. Healthy. The memories that others hold add to him and even magnify him. And so now, as he pours himself out and discards the bodily dwelling that once contained all of him, he extends himself to all those he knew, and together you share the essence of who he is. I hope that in this season of Advent you can find a peace to celebrate who he is and find comfort in the hope that one day he will rise again, and you will be able to return to him with interest, the treasures of him that you kept.
ReplyDeleteJodie Gallo
Very beautiful Jodie. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteViola, thank you! Reading this is hard for two reasons. I'm so sorry to hear of how far Brad's Alzheimer's has progressed. I think of you both and pray for you often. The other reason is that you are bringing knowledge of what lies ahead as I follow you on this pathway through Alzheimer's with my husband. I've been told that every person's journey through Alzheimer's is different and so we do not know if we will experience the same bends in the road as you and Brad, but it is daunting to know some of the losses that lie ahead.
ReplyDeleteJodie, your words are beautiful and helpful encouragement. Roland is still the person he has always been but processes, words, and memories are scattered bits and pieces that he can no longer pull together. You have helped me to visualize my role and that of our family and friends in pouring back into Roland those pieces of himself that we treasure and memories we hold dear. A simple example: He was frustrated yesterday that he could not turn on the TV and was so impressed with how easily I restored the dark screen. I simply told him that all I know about how to do that I learned from him, and he was a good teacher.
Viola, earlier this week I found myself reminded of Psalm 30 which says joy will come in the morning and I cried out to God in tears--God where is the joy? I am grateful for knowing with you that He is here with us always and he will return joy. His promises are sure. It's true, "He will."
Marie, I just now saw your response. Things got so bad I did not write or look back. Now he is with Jesus, at peace and whole. I have so much sorrow but I know he is with the Lord. I am so sorry for what you are going through. Both of you. I will be praying for you.
Delete