We Musn't Forget

Throughout the years I have observed, under a variety of circumstances and in full action, that decimator known as Alzheimers.

I'm not sure if there is any experience more capable of inducing sadness than watching an intelligent, rational human being become entirely confused and dysfunctional with common daily routines.  Something as seemingly simple as putting on a pair of pants, which most of us have done on our own since the age of 4, becomes a foreign and incomprehensible task.

On a deeper level, it is profoundly sad to see these folks not recognize the people they have loved most.  Children whom they have nurtured and fed and taught are strangers one moment and beloved the next.  Spouses are sometimes treasured, sometimes feared.   Parents long-deceased are sought out.  I have seen a patient fret and grieve as if learning for the first time that her father, who died decades earlier, is no longer here.  Each time she forgets and hears it again, her grieving starts afresh.  And because the faculties can no longer assimilate rational thoughts, there is little to no help available to her.

I never realized before what a rational process comfort is.  It is largely a capacity of the mind to make sense of death and tragedy.  When that ability has vanished, comfort becomes elusive.  Physical touch and the tone of soothing words can momentarily ease the sharp edge of grief, but these fail to penetrate in a lasting way and lose their power as soon as they are over.

We must remember to pray for our brothers and sisters who are victims of this disease, as well as those who have undertaken the tedious task of caring for them day in and day out.

We should also pray regularly and fervently that The Divine Comforter would calm and quiet their restless souls when our human efforts are of no avail.

And we should seek to serve them the way we hope to be served if God's providence sets our own feet on that path someday.