My Alzheimer's Journal #14

I posted the words below on Facebook and Liker today in honor of -- perhaps because of our ages -- too many friends of mine who are facing death.

Henri Nouwen was a Dutch Catholic priest who taught at both Harvard and Yale. But his desire to live more like Jesus made him leave academia to pursue what he called Christlike "Downward Mobility. First, he worked and lived among the poorest of the poor in Latin America. Later he joined the work of the L'Arche Daybreak Community in Canada. Though he died suddenly on this day in 1996, He knew his health was failing when he wrote these words below. They speak to me. I hope they also speak to several Facebook friends I have who are living and dying with cancer, AIDS, MS, Alzheimer's or other catastrophic illnesses. I pray we will all both live and die accordingly. The Peace of God be with you all. Here are Nouwen's words:

The Most Important Choice:
If I die with much anger and bitterness, I will leave my family and friends behind in confusion, guilt, shame, or weakness. When I felt my death approaching, I suddenly realized how much I could influence the hearts of those whom I would leave behind. If I could truly say that I was grateful for what I had lived, eager to forgive and be forgiven, full of hope that those who loved me would continue their lives of joy and peace, and confident that Jesus who calls me would guide all who somehow belonged to my life—if I could do that—I would, in the hour of my death, reveal more true spiritual freedom than I had been able to reveal during all the years of my life. I realize on a very deep level that dying is the most important act of living. It involves a choice to bind others with guilt or to set them free with gratitude.

My Alzheimer's Journal #13

I don't know why I can write better than I can talk. Maybe because I have more time to think through what I want to say? Talking is hard because sometimes I can't get the words I want to say to come out.

Yesterday was a bad day. When I went to make dinner I could not find the butter or the coffee. I searched all over the fridge and the coffee cupboard to no avail. Finally, I told Connie I could not find them. She came in and found I had put the butter in the cupboard where we keep the bread and peanut butter and I have put the coffee in the pantry with the canned veggies. Several times in recent weeks when I went back into the kitchen to clean up after dinner, I found that I had forgotten to turn the burner off on the stovetop. And one time recently I found I had left a burner on when I went into the kitchen to turn out lights just before bedtime. Alzheimer's is downright dangerous. I told Connie she needed to survey the kitchen each night after I finished cleaning up.

Also yesterday, my brother treated us to lunch at a new restaurant to celebrate Connie's birthday.  The restaurant was so noisy I could not make out most of the conversation. My hearing aids don't do much good in large noisy crowds. Dealing with deafness and Alzheimer's at the same time is like a double whammy. When Connie asks me if I remembered something, I never know if I forgot because of the Alzheimer's or because I just didn't hear it the first time.

Well, enough complaining. It's a gorgeous day outside. A friend is coming over soon the do a Bible study with Connie and then we are going out to take food to a woman who just had a baby. After that, I think we talked about going to IKEA for our walk and lunch. 

That is all.

My Alzheimer's Journal #12

Today is Connie's birthday. Truly, I don't know what I would do without her. I'm sure it must be discouraging to her to answer a question I've asked a few minutes or hours earlier but have forgotten I even asked the question, but less know what she told me. But she always answers cheerfully. And she reminds me that last year on this date she had knee replacement surgery and I waited on her hand and foot, often helping her out of bed to the bathroom, bringing her ice packs to reduce the swelling, etc.

I make breakfast every morning and dinner every night except when we have company, then Connie cooks. But preparing meals is getting harder for me. I forget to tell Connie things we're out of so when I go to cook I don't have the proper ingredients. Today I was going to make her pancakes and bacon for breakfast but we were out of bacon and sausage both. So I went to McDonald's. Thought I had made the coffee before I left so I didn't get any there, only to find out when I returned that I had forgotten to make it. And it is getting harder and harder for me to cook. I keep looking at the stove or countertop or refrigerator wondering why I there and what I'm supposed to do next.

This morning I'm going to spend time reading with two of our granddaughters, then Connie and I are going to lunch with some friends from church to celebrate Connie's B-day.  So it should be a fun day. I'm looking forward to it.

That's all for today.

My Alzheimer's Journal #11

Yesterday I told my Sunday School class that after the three sermons I'm scheduled to preach in October and November, I'm going to have to stop preaching. It is just getting too hard to write a sermon. And today, for the first time, I let all of my Facebook and Liker friends know about my Alzheimer's with the following post:

I was diagnosed with MS when I was 38 and with Alzheimer's two years ago. As the Alzheimer's continues to ravish my brain, and the MS continues to make my legs more and more uncoordinated, I totally get the last sentence in Nouwen's first paragraph. I have spoken it to Connie and Pastor Cliff on several occasions. Please pray with me that as I continue to decline, I'll do a better job of living the second paragraph than the first.

Preparing for Death
Some people say they are afraid of death. Others say they are not. But most people are quite afraid of dying. The slow deterioration of mind and body, the pains of a growing cancer, the ravaging effects of AIDS, becoming a burden for your friends, losing control of your movements, being talked about or spoken to with half-truths, forgetting recent events and the names of visitors—all of that and much more is what we really fear. It’s not surprising that we sometimes say: “I hope it doesn’t last long. I hope I will die through a sudden heart attack and not after a long, painful illness."

But, whatever we think or hope, the way we will die is unpredictable and our worries about it quite fruitless. Still, we need to be prepared. Preparing ourselves for our deaths is the most important task of life, at least when we believe that death is not the total dissolution of our identity but the way to its fullest revelation. Death, as Jesus speaks about it, is that moment in which total defeat and total victory are one. The cross on which Jesus died is the sign of this oneness of defeat and victory. Jesus speaks about his death as being “lifted up” ()ohn 12:32-33).--Henri J. M. Nouwen 

My Alzheimer's Journal #10

I officiated at my last wedding yesterday. I forgot to tell the audience that the families of the bride and groom were supposed to remain for pictures when I dismissed the crowd. Felt like an idiot when the mother of the bride finally told me what I had done. Feeling very sad that I messed up at what I knew would be my last wedding.

That is all for today.