My Alzheimer's Journal #17

It's been a good week. We got to spend real quality time with all nine of the grandchildren who live here in the Mid-South. Yesterday we went to Grandparent's Day at the Delta School in Wilson, Arkansas. We had a wonderful time and, except for the fact that I can't drive anymore, I hardly thought about my Alzheimer's at all. 

My Alzheimer's Journal #16

Here are some more inspirational yet challenging words from Fr. Henri Nouwen on the subject of aging and dying that brought me a measure of comfort:

Our Weakness Blesses Others

Our weakness and old age call people to surround us and support us. By not resisting weakness and by gratefully receiving another’s care we call forth community and provide our caregivers an opportunity to give their own gifts of compassion, care, love, and service. As we are given into their hands, others are blessed and enriched by caring for us. Our weakness bears fruit in their lives. And dying is our ultimate vulnerability. Instead of looking at the weakness of old age as simply the experience of loss after loss, we can choose it as a passage to emptiness where our hearts have room to be filled with the Spirit of Love overflowing. It is ultimate weakness but it is also potentially the greatest moment of our fruitfulness. --Henri Nouwen

Truly I pray that my increasing cognitive and physical weakness will bear fruit in Connie's life, and not just be a burden.

My Alzheimer's Journal #15

Because I can no longer drive, and because I have so much trouble understanding what to others would be simple directions, and because I've had to give up officiating at weddings, teaching Sunday School, and preaching, I am constantly aware of my Alzheimer's. So I long for distractions that take my mind off of it. A couple of times a week my daughter-in-law, Brandy, brings her kids over to read to me. After they are each done, I read to them. It's a very special time for me. And lately, Connie and I have been watching the Ken Burns film series on the history of country music. It has been so well done that for two hours each night I never have a thought about my Alzheimer's.

But there are times when being reminded of it is ok. This morning my old friend Sam Specht called just to let me know he was thinking about me. He asked me some questions about my situation but it was done in such a loving way and full of concern and empathy that I didn't mind it so much.

But now, in a few minutes, Connie and I are going to leave to get to an event with several of our church friends, and I and all of them will be reminded of it because Connie will be the one driving.

That is all for now.