One of my closest friends, a man about 20 years my senior and who I’ve known and admired since I was in my 20s, has been stricken with Alzheimer’s disease.
It’s been escalating for over a year. And now it’s gotten to the place where he doesn’t remember our last phone conversation.
This is a man who I owe a great debt to in my Christian life and ministry. He’s the first one who exposed me to God’s heart for the poor and the oppressed, something I’ve been totally focused on for the last three years.
My friend isn’t on the Internet, for he has no computer. (I bought him two computers over the years, but one died and the other he sold.)
He’s never written a book, he has no blog or email address, and he is largely unknown. Yet he’s the smartest and wisest man I’ve ever met. A hidden gem in Christ.
One sad memory is burned in my brain. Last year, I treated my friend to dinner at an upscale steak restaurant called Charley’s Steakhouse.
We finished our meal and he went off to the restroom. I waited, and when he didn’t return, I started searching for him.
He was nowhere to be found, so I got the manager involved. She and her staff combed the place, looking for my friend. We started walking the parking lot (it was around 9 pm and dark).
After 45 minutes or so of searching in vain, we called the police.
They found him on some street trying to walk home. He had forgotten he was at the restaurant with me and that I was waiting for him.
Anyways, I miss my friend. Yes, he’s still here, but his mind is going.
The old conversations where we would burn up the phone lines for hours talking about the Lord, the Scriptures, scholars, theologians, history, philosophy, art, and life in general are gone.
There were times in my life where I would call my friend almost daily.
We’ve been through dark times and deep waters together. We’ve also shared and celebrated the joys of life.
I still call him at least once a week, and I make sure I visit him in person to take him to nice restaurants (though I now follow him if he heads off to the restroom).
Yes, my friend is still here. But in another sense, he’s gone.
Even though I spoke to him by phone yesterday, our conversations are limited to his failing memory.
In short, I miss him.
Point: Cherish the times you have with your friends and loved ones. Relish them. Be present at every moment when you’re in their presence or you speak to them by phone. There will come a day when they will be gone . . . even if they are still present in body.
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Thank you for sharing your personal story, your own loss and the important message to be present with those we love, for we don’t have them forever. My mom is suffering from dementia/Alzheimer’s and my dad said it is like watching her walk away from him slowly. I treasure the moments that are “normal” and clear, but they are disappearing by the day. Thank-you for reminding us.
Well said.
My grandma Ruth succomed to the affects of Alzheimers twenty-two years ago. I think of her so often. I dream of speaking with her on occasion.
Your points are well-taken and I hope I never forget them or fail to take heed.
Carpe Diem!
Frank, I’m so sorry for the changes in your friend and this wonderful lifetime relationship you have together. You will continue being such a blessing to your friend, buzzing through the challenges and necessary changes just like the missile you described in your latest post.
Although I was devastated when my (widowed) mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s after moving near me, a determination rose up within me to bring her joy in any way I could in each stage. While driving her one day, I saw through new eyes her wonder and joy at two things – tall trees and big flags (like at car lots). So I began driving her around just to share that fresh joy of discovery with her every couple of minutes as her eyes lit up as she exclaimed in awe. No longer did I notice the things lost but rejoiced in the simplicity of this gift I was able to give her.
Even the last few years of her 15 years of living this way, I was amazed how God designed our spirit to stay alert even as our body and soul declined. She would come out of that place that seemed like she wasn’t really there anymore when I would sing in the Spirit to her and talk to her about her interactions with Jesus behind the scenes – and open her eyes with a knowing smile like we were sharing secret moments with Jesus together. I’ll never forget these blessings as I adjusted my perceptions and expections that allowed me to share her sufferings and turn them into joy.
She lived to 90 years old, outliving her ancestors (who mostly died in their 70’s). God is so good – fellowshipping with her even when we couldn’t see it. I believe He will give you a wonderful testimony of His goodness in your friend’s later years as you navigate the obstacles creatively like you always do! My prayers are with you both.
How very blessed this man is to have a friend like you in his life, Frank, and yes, it is a good reminder to cherish all of our friends and loved ones. Let your beautiful memories sustain you as you still continue to create more of them with your dear friend.
Thanks for the post and thanks to all who replied. Each post was encouraging to me. 🙂
I’m sorry to hear that Frank, and I pray that the Father of Mercies and God of all comfort will reveal Himself in this (2 Cor. 1:3). I’ve worked as a nursing assistant and a social worker for over 20 years. In that time I’ve cared for or managed care for a number of people with Alzheimer’s or other types of dementia. Dementia is truly devastating.
Incidentally, Teepa Snow has a lot of good material on maximizing relationships with loved ones who develop dementia. If you’re interested, Google her name.
Thanks for the reminder to cherish our friendships, Frank. Interestingly, the failure to do so has been identified as one of the “top five regrets of the dying” (From Bronnie Ware’s book with the same title.) For those who are interested, here’s the list (It excludes regrets about spiritual matters)
1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
2. I wish I hadn’t worked so hard.
3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.
4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.
5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.
I feel your pain. My mom has Alzheimer’s. It is so heartbreaking to have a conversation with her. It’s not uncommon for her to ask the same question 3 times in a 10 minute span.
Brother, I understand completely what you are going through. My father was diagnosed several years ago and I truly miss that we never were able to connect before. We were never really close, and I never heard him tell me he loved me until after being stricken by this terrible disease. I longed for the connection that you and your friend had. You truly were blessed to have him for the time you did.
Love you brother,
Jason H.
Frank, I could say many things about the details of this affliction that my mother also suffered from, but I find it too painful to speak or write of it right now. The picture gets worse, mentally and physically. It shuts down everything eventually. I will say that I am grateful that my mother is no longer suffering and like a frightened child in her mother’s arms, my mother died as I held her. I understand.
Frank, I love you even more for sharing something so personal. May you be comforted, and may your dear friend, even on the worst days, always recognize, be aware of, and enjoy Jesus.
It is sad Frank, I will be praying for you, your friend and his family. I to have heard about the coconut oil, CBN has done some reporting about Dr. Mary Newport who has done some research and tried the coconut oil on her own husband. Here is a link for an article about her and the coconut oil: http://www.gainesville.com/article/20130331/ARTICLES/130339979?p=1&tc=pg
(Edit) “I too…”
This post touches my heart as my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimers last fall. It is an ambiguous loss as noted by Pauline Boss, Phd in her book “Loving Someone who has Dementia.” The duality of my mom being absent and present at the same time is confusing. This loss is a loss that is unclear; it has no resolution and no closure. One time I’m with my mother and she is so lucid and another time she is confused and gets upset. I am so grateful that she seems so childlike and is still so thankful for everyone around her. Only those who know someone with dementia understand this kind of loss. Each moment is truly a treasure.
Frank,
A dear mentor of mine when I was in High School (a theatre coach and English teacher) was also struck by Alzheimer’s when I was a young minister in Tennessee. I remember closing the door of my office and just crying my eyes out. This lady took a shy, socially awkward 14 year old who had just moved into the little community, befriended me, and mentored me in learning, acting, presenting and confidence. Much of what I am today is because of her tremendous influence.
Later on my mother suffered dementia and went down hill for nearly 10 years before she died.
There are no words that can adequately express what we go through when a dear friend or loved one is afflicted with this thief of identity. I have not words to express that will really make it right or set it right. But today, right now, I pray God’s blessings on your friend and upon you. I cannot know what you feel because I do not personally know you nor do I know the depth of the relationship you have with your friend. But I can use my imagination.
Blessings and peace.
I’m sorry for the pain you are experiencing watching your friend “disappear”.
Alzheimer’s is a disease straight from the pits of hell. My grandmother (whom I love and miss dearly) has been slowly devolving from the same affliction. I think Alzheimer’s is harder on the loved ones than it is on the afflicted in most ways, though I do believe there is more going on upstairs than many believe. It’s almost as if they are trapped in their own heads sometimes.
I had a friend tell me once, referring to our children, that when they look back on their lives the things they will remember most are time and people. Be the person who spends the time.
I pray the Holy Spirit bring you peace that passes all understanding and mercy for your friend.
In Christ,
Vara
Dear Frank, how very sad, this is a health problem. I have heard that 2 table spoons of organic coconut oil will help with this problem. How wonderfull is God’s Love. That’s 2 twice a day. Leon.
And, I would add, even if they intentionally leave you. Still, cherish the good times you had, and continue cherishing the times with those you have at this moment.
This is profoundly sad. As a nurse for some years I have seen many inflicted with this terrible disease. A disintegrating mind may not affect those who are experiencing it firsthand (except in the early stages, when they are aware of what is happening) but to those closest to them, it is heartbreaking. This makes me so grateful that in eternity we will be truly whole.
Interesting timing, as I am just now getting around to listening to your recent podcast about the First Relationship. At the beginning you mention cherishing every moment, thanking God for each new day, etc.
Thank you for both reminders this morning. As usual, they are needed. 🙂