Yesterday, Frank and I walked in from a quick run and found mom sitting at the breakfast table.  At first glance, all looked normal with her open word search book, familiar pen and straight edge  – she is a little OCD with her straight lines when she finds a word.  She closed her book and excitedly told us that one of my sisters had called and told her that she’d be picked up in two days.  I let her chatter about how Sue had called and that she needed to pack.  She actually asked for her luggage!

She looked at me dumbfounded after I told her that we were going on vacation and no one would be home in two days.  She brightened up after I told her where we were going and quipped, “That is driving distance from California!  Sue can just pick me up and maybe we can drop by!”  Folks, we are talking about the difference between the east coast and the west coast so there is no “dropping by”.

I practiced being gentle and trying to lead her to a better place, but she has a very focused stubborn streak and would not let it go.  She insisted for a couple of hours going so far as telling Sue on the phone that we never took her anywhere or did anything. So I prayed for her – for calm, comfort, and  a return to some sort of normalcy – I just told God I had no idea what to say so could He please help?  I thought this was humorous in light of what I posted just that morning.

This morning, I tested the waters and she is okay.

Beautiful morning for a walk!

We went on our normal walk and the picture I took told me volumes.  At this moment, my shadow is bigger and taller than hers.  Her form is bent and mine for the time being is straight.  She needs me to protect her even if it is from herself.  There was a time in the not so distance past where the roles were reversed, but it is my turn to provide refuge and her safe place.

Psalm 91:1  He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.

At 1p.m. Eastern Standard Time which is 10a.m. Pacific Standard Time, an alarm goes off on several devices.  For me, it is my phone.  Our family has committed to praying for one another at this specific time during the week.  We pray at other times, but this time is reserved just for our family.  We are sometimes pleasantly surprised by circumstances and a couple of us can actually call so we can pray together.

As I study more about mom’s condition – it would seem that all of a sudden I am in the company of many others in the same situation – and I am asked to pray for these folks.  Here is my conundrum.  The Bible says much about prayer:

• James 5:16  Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working.
• Colossians 4:12 Continue steadfastly in prayer, being watchful in it with thanksgiving.
• Philippians 4:6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.

But, what am I supposed to ask for, especially as it pertains to mom?  Healing? Comfort?  Restoration?  At this moment, we have older friends who we know are in their last days and of course, we are praying for them.  A couple of them are already over 90!  Realistically, the aging process can’t be reversed, nor can the effects of some chronic illnesses or injuries.

Here is what I have found.  I tell God all.  He wants to hear what is in my heart about those for whom I pray not my finely crafted, eloquent masterpieces of oration that would please an English teacher.  One of my favorite episodes of “Elmo’s World” (I have a grandson who loves Elmo) is a Christmas one where Elmo can’t figure out what to get his goldfish, Dorothy for a gift.  So he goes to visit Santa who thinks Elmo came to sit on his lap and share his Christmas wish list.  Imagine Santa’s surprise when all Elmo wanted was Santa’s suggestion on what Elmo should give Dorothy!

The practice of prayer in my life especially now is simply to practice the presence of God (A book of the teachings of Brother Lawrence, a 17th century Carmelite monk is aptly called, “The Practice of the Presence of God” – great read!).  Prayer is living the moments in each day with God – being aware of His presence as a friend and companion but with power and awe as the Almighty.

Solomon is touted as one of the wisest men who ever lived.  His discourse in Ecclesiastes 12 however, is not one of my favorite chapters.  When I was in my 30’s and 40’s – it was easy to dismiss the words of wisdom as something to do later.  The advice he gave to “remember also your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near of which you will say, ‘I have no pleasure in them.'”  Then came the litany of vivid word pictures that describe what happens to an aging individual.  Here is a short list of some of how Solomon described the effects of aging:

• keepers of the house tremble
• strong men are bent
• grinders cease because they are few
• those who look through the windows are dimmed
• afraid of what is high
• afraid of terrors in the way
• desire fails

This would not make a good print ad!  I’m not sure that retirement communities would necessarily point out that your neighbors, especially the older ones, will be in the midst of one or more of these or all of these.

Enter mom.  I watched her all weekend.  What I saw was all of what Solomon described.  Sure, she had her spurts of energy and spots where she was the “mom” again (or at least she attempted it), but generally Solomon was right on target.  Well, of course he was as God gave him the wisdom to pen Ecclesiastes.

I enjoy cooking (and eating) and work hard to provide nutritious, tasty meals for us to enjoy.  Well this weekend, I watched as no matter what was served or where – home or restaurant – mom would close her eyes and chew as if it was a monumental, laborious task.  In this culinary centered society of ours, it is hard to imagine when eating becomes a chore to be endured.  Because of the dementia, mom does not get hungry or thirsty.  We have to make sure she eats and drinks.  Mom can fall asleep sitting anywhere, but she is never tired so we have to make sure she rests.

In the 12th chapter of Ecclesiastes, Solomon says, “The words of the wise are like goads” (vs 11).  Some of us are a little more stubborn than others and reject the pure wisdom right in front of our faces.  I pray for a little less stubbornness for me and for mom.  Gotta run – she is in the kitchen playing in the water again.

If I can, I want to make my posts on Fridays lighthearted.  She may not intend to and certainly has no idea, but mom can be quirky and make me laugh.  The best times are when she is like this and she laughs at herself.

This week, I have been trying to finish off some garden projects so when Frank comes home, we’ve hopped in the car to dash off to the nearest home improvement/DIY place to get supplies.  One afternoon, I told mom to get ready to come with us.  She jumped out of her seat and hurried to the kitchen.  I turned and asked her where she was going and she said, “Upstairs!”.  She realized where she was and laughed at herself!  See what getting her excited can do?

This weeks favorite anecdote was during one of our daily walks.

Mom putting on the shoes she won’t give back to me.  She says she loves them and they’re the best!

Mom’s social skills are waning so when we see folks from the neighborhood walking, I gently reminder her to smile, wave or say hello.  She spotted a familiar pair of older ladies walking towards us, looked at me with her graying eyes and said, “Jog!” and started jogging!  The ladies passed us and we exchanged a pleasantry while mom tried to look like Harriette Thompson (the oldest woman ever to run and finish a marathon).  The minute she was satisfied that the ladies were past us, mom stopped and said, “Enough!”  Her vanity will pop like a heated popcorn kernel and not only surprise us but make us smile for miles.

By the way, she walked two full miles today.  Well done, mama!

There was a piece of me that resided in guilt.  No matter how I tried to justify myself, I came away with the same burdensome weight.  I think I understand this so I’ll try and explain.  Mom was diagnosed with dementia about three years ago.  It was not a good time – it never is.  She’d call me in tears telling me all that my sister and brother-in-law were accusing her of.  Then I’d get a phone call about mom getting lost by driving south instead of north or putting metal in the microwave, or leaving the stove on for hours.

Mom sure could talk up a believable story back then.  Her coping mechanisms are still pretty sharp until she starts waxing eloquent about life “back then” and all her past gets scrunched up.  So, I believed her (notice this is past tense).  I believed her because I never saw what my sister saw.  I never really did my research.  I never took the time so spend enough time with her to see the deterioration that was slowly taking our mother away.

Could we have done something to at least slow this down?  My sister deserves all the credit for how well mom is doing presently.  She invested so much time and effort to make mom comfortable, but we still have to live so we all had to work.  My portion came through a guilt trip and now that I see mom 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, I wonder what would have happened if we instituted some of what we are doing now earlier.

This condition is disarming.  Mom is disarming.  You can ask her how she likes her food and she will say delicious every time.  You ask her how she is doing and she is fine all the time.  She can look up from her plate and say that she will change her diet to include some of the things we are eating.  Her favorite thing to ask for is the recipe.  Folks, she has not cooked in years nor can she plan a meal or understand when mealtime is.

So, the guilt was like a trailer being pulled by a locomotive.  The train lead us down familiar tracks, but more often than not, we were on new ground almost daily.  I’d chase after the train scrambling to look up what the new ground meant.  How come she couldn’t tell some colors apart?  How come she couldn’t smell (this is bad when something is burning!)?  How come she was never hungry, tired or sleepy?  How come she could snap back with a retort and mumble about all the injustice I am dishing out but she couldn’t sort out whether it was morning or evening.

One day, I had to tell her that we could not use her debit card for a couple of days.  She obsessed about that until she simply cut it up.  Just yesterday, she was studying her arm and laughed.  “Look!”, she told me after I asked her what was funny.  “I can see my vein when my arm is down and it goes away when my arm is up!”  Oh mom!

She’ll probably get to heaven before I do and I know the first thing she will tell me after she exclaims, “Thank God you made it!” will be why, how, and when.  Why her.  How did it happen and how the condition worked.  And finally, when – when God showed her what happened during her time with dementia, could she see how much we loved her, cared for her, and missed her?  She’ll say yes, especially after you let go of the guilt.