My Alzheimer's Journal #25

It's getting harder and harder for me to speak and write. Writing is easier than talking, but even here I sometimes spend 30 minutes or more just straining for the mot juste to complete a thought. In fact, I just did that here.

My Alzheimer's Journal #24

For the past several years I have felt hot even when everyone else in the room feels cold. My doctor says it's because my MS plaques have messed up my hypothalamus. For most of my life, I have awoken between 4:30 and 5:30 a.m. without the aid of an alarm clock. But for the last week or so I've slept until 6:30 or 7:00 a.m. I don't know if that has something to do with my MS or my Alzheimer's. I do know that I don't like it. I feel like I've wasted the morning away. And even with the extra sleep, I still feel tired all the time. 

My Alzheimer's Journal #23

Alzheimer's is so weird. When I wake in the morning I have no idea what day it is and I have to look at my cell phone or ask Connie to find out. And I hardly ever remember what events or activities are scheduled for that day. But the slightest little thing can spark a long-ago memory.

Just yesterday when I grabbed my towel as I was getting out of the shower I had a flashback to when I was a kid. Mom and Dad took us to the pool to go swimming. They both had beach towels but my brother and I used old bath towels. During the rest period, when the lifeguards made everyone get out of the pool for15 minutes, Mom noticed that my toes were over the end of my towel and she exclaimed that I was getting so big I would need my own beach towel. I was thrilled to hear that. I felt so grown up. And I couldn't wait to lord it over my brother that I had a real beach towel and he was still using a "baby" towel. Unfortunately for my devious plans, our mother felt compelled to buy each of us a beach towel. I never really understood why my parents felt the need to make more babies when they had achieved perfection the first time. Lol.

Anyway, I'm kind of thrilled that today I can remember an epiphany from yesterday.

My Alzheimer's Journal #22

“The return from your work must be the satisfaction which that work brings you and the world's need of that work. With this, life is heaven, or as near heaven as you can get. Without this — with work which you despise, which bores you, and which the world does not need — this life is hell.”
― W.E.B. Du Bois

My "retirement" jobs were preaching for pastors who were out of town and officiating weddings for the God Squad. Both brought me a lot of satisfaction, even joy. Now that I'm no longer able to do either, I feel "jobless." And that too is a kind of hell. Who am I now? What am I?

My Alzheimer's Journal #20

I asked Connie if my constantly asking her questions like, "Where are we going," or "What are we doing today," when she has already told me several times is annoying or frustrating to her. She admitted that it was. That makes me sad. Truly, I would much rather God take me sooner than to be an exasperation to Connie as long as Mom was to Dad with her Alzheimer's.  

My Alzheimer's Journal #19

I preached my final sermon at St. Luke this past Sunday. It feels really weird not to be working on an upcoming sermon. Even though I'm retired I still preached about a dozen times a year at St. Luke and Epiphany Lutheran churches. Most people at St. Luke call me Pastor Paul. I guess now I'm just Paul. And that feels like I've lost something. 

My Alzheimer's Journal #18

It is becoming increasingly hard for me to write a sermon. This past Sunday I preached my second to last sermon. Next Sunday will be the last. Last month, when I realized I needed to stop preaching and stop officiating weddings, I felt very sad. But after messing up the liturgy several times Sunday and stumbling over words a few times during the sermon, I told Connie after the service that though I was sad I can no longer preach, I was glad that this Sunday would be my last preaching assignment. My ego makes me want to lead a flawless worship experience and knowing that is not likely to happen is very stress-inducing.

People have been very kind and understanding and everyone who spoke to me after Sunday's service seemed to have been challenged by my message, but it took so long to pull it together. I finally had to resort to words I found in other pastors' sermons on the internet.

That's all for today.

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.