[BBC List] remember?

[Mike Abendroth]

Remembering


by Scott Linn

The Psalmist writes, "Shall thy wonders be known in the dark? and thy
righteousness in the land of forgetfulness?" 88:12 And, "Lover and friend
hast thou put far from me, and mine acquaintance into darkness." 88:18

My mother lives in that land of forgetfulness. On Memorial Day, 1993, my mom
stopped remembering. She developed Alzheimer's. On that most ironic of days,
she no longer knew my father. She liked him; she thought he was a nice old
man; she called him Grandpa; she was impressed that an older gentleman could
fall in love with her; but she did not know who he was. He died less than
two months later of a heart that was broken as much as of a heart that just
broke. After almost 53 years of love, he could not understand what had
happened.

When Dad died, my mom went into a nursing home. A week later she fell and
broke her hip. After that, she had two severe cases of cystitis and one of
phlebitis all of which hospitalized her. She developed a bed sore on her
back that kept her laid up in a special bed for months. At one point, she
was completely out of it. She could not respond to anything. She sat slumped
over - her head pillowed only by the tray on her wheelchair. I tried to feed
her one day. She could not swallow much less chew what I gave her.

When things were the bleakest, she rallied back. Her health improved. Her
appetite came back. The physical therapists even got her to walk some. She
is still cracked up, but she has become a real crack up. The things she
does, the things she says, and the things she says she does keep me laughing
when I've been there and fill her caregiver and the nursing home staff with
stories that they rush to tell me when I haven't.

One day when she was in her bed sore special bed, she looked up at me and
said, "You're going to think this is so funny, but I was talking to someone
today, and I couldn't remember your name."

I said, "It's Bill [my boyhood name], Mom."

She said, "Well, I KNOW that, but what's your last name? I went looking in
that book where all the names are ...."

"The Phone Book, Mom?"

"Yes, that's it."

"Well, my name's Bill Linn."

"Well, that explains it," she said - "I was looking under Mud."

I had to go walk out in the hall for a few minutes.

Another day, I was talking to her out in the sitting area. One of the other
female inmates came up to her and growled, "Nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh." Mom looked
at her and said with complete ease, "I'm sorry, I don't speak French. But, I
believe my son does." [I don't voulez a single word in Francaise.]

Mom fell in love and got engaged (in her head) to a 60 year old detainee
named Dave. Their conversations were surreal. Like normal conversations Mom
would say her part and wait while Dave said his part, and he did the same
back. Only, Mom was discussing wedding plans and Dave was counting to one
hundred. She broke up with him several times because "he didn't communicate
very well." The staff told me of one time when she was still engaged: Mom
was holding Dave's hand and she announced in a loud voice to the group, "May
I have everyone's attention! I have an announcement! David and I are going
to be married." A woman vistor was there. She said to Mom, "Excuse me. Who
did you say you were marrying?" Mom said, "David *****." This woman was the
REAL Mrs. David *****. She looked at Mom and said, "Oh well, the more the
merrier. If you can get him down the aisle, more power to you."

Mom doesn't live in the past like the television portrayal of Alzheimer's.
She lives in her own present world and has a great time. She's been to
Russia, to Paris, to California, and lecturing down in the islands. The
Lutherans are going to publish some of her poetry. She just went back to
school and got her degree in Spanish (because she couldn't remember well
enough to conjugate all the German verbs). She graduated with honors. She
married a man who was 21 1/2. [If it's going to be imaginary, it might as
well be fun.]

I love to quiz her on what she's been up to. The one rule I have is never to
ask her, "Do you remember ....?" I don't want to stress her out, and I don't
want to know if the answer is "No." For instance, I never ask her if she
knows who I am. Sometimes, she introduces me as her brother Jerry, but
that's all right - Jerry is a nice guy.

There is one question above all others that I have been reluctant to ask
her: "Do you remember God?" I've been afraid to hear a negative answer. You
see, there is *NOTHING* I can do to make her remember. If she has forgotten
God, no amount of pleading or prompting can bring it back. I know. I tried
it when she didn't know my dad.

Now, you can tell from my stories, that God hasn't forgotten her. And, you
know what I found out the other day? She hasn't forgotten Him either. Our
caregiver told my wife that Mom often goes out to the group and witnesses to
them, prays with them, and tells them that they need to be saved. And, you
know what else? Her former night nurse has had to quit because he is dying
of AIDS. I don't know this, but maybe the only Gospel he has ever heard came
from the lips of that sweet, crazy old mother of mine.

Praise God from Whom ALL blessings flow. 

Update from Scott:

My mother died peacefully in Sept. 1999

Over the years, I received numerous emails of encouragement and shared grief
from folks. I have always been thankful to you for posting it on CRTA.

Thanks,

Scott Linn

 

 

Thanks.

 

Charis,

 

Mike Abendroth

 

 <http://www.bbcchurch.org> www.bbcchurch.org

 

Ephesians 3:21 auvtw/| h` do,xa evn th/| evkklhsi,a| 

 

2 Tim 1:2b  "Grace, mercy and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our
Lord."

 

"Faith is not our physician; it only brings us to the Physician ... Faith is
not our saviour. It was not faith that was born at Bethlehem and died on
Golgotha for us. It was not faith that loved us, and gave itself for us;
that bore our sins in its own body on the tree; that died and rose again for
our sins.  It is a sin-bearer that we need, and our faith cannot be a
sin-bearer. Faith can expiate no guilt; can accomplish no propitiation; can
pay no penalty; can wash away no stain; can provide no righteousness. It
brings us to the cross, . but in itself it has no merit and no virtue.
Faith is not Christ, nor the cross of Christ. Faith is not the blood, nor
the sacrifice; . Our faith does not divide the work of salvation between
itself and the cross. It is the acknowledgment that the cross alone saves,
and that it saves alone. Faith adds nothing to the cross, nor to its healing
virtue. It owns the fulness, and sufficiency, and suitableness of the work
done there, and bids the toiling spirit cease from its labours and enter
into rest. Faith does not come to Calvary to do anything. It comes to see
the glorious spectacle of all things done, and to accept this completion
without a misgiving as to its efficacy. It listens to the "It is finished!"
of the Sin-bearer, and says, "Amen."   

NOT FAITH, BUT CHRIST 

by Horatius Bonar 
(1808-1889) 

 

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