Joy of her Life

We walked into the Alzheimer's unit. Most of the residents were sleeping in chairs in front of a television. One sat across the room, awake, looking straight ahead, arms folded on her lap. Her eyes were vacant, staring at nothing. As my friend, her husband, moved towards her, her eyes slowly focused and her sad face brightened. As though a light were turned on within, the occupants suddenly flooding home gaily, her smile shattered the old landscape. She beamed at him with recognition.
"Your husband is here!" said a nurse.
"My husband!" repeated Evelyn.
Komer hugged his wife. He had been felled by two strokes and then pneumonia. He had been unable to visit her for a long time, and I know his greatest fear was she would no longer know him. Prior to the strokes, he had lived in an independent facility just around the corner from Evelyn. He had used a motorized chair to rumble over to see her every day. Now, he had no way to get to her from the much further assisted living portion of the grounds where he had to be moved. His visits would be dependent on a busy family...and friends. Evelyn had an excuse if she forgot him. I realized I had none.

"You remember Vicky?" Komer asked Evelyn, "Our neighbor Vicky?"
Evelyn looked at me, and repeated, "Neighbor Vicky....."
"You look beautiful, Evelyn!" I said, taking her small hand in mine.
"You look beautiful...too," she said.
We walked to her room and as she sat down, she hugged Komer again and said, "You look beautiful."
She sat on the edge of her bed and peered at me. Then she smiled, "Vicky- our neighbor from next door." She looked deeply in my eyes and I felt she remembered me and was trying to seal that memory in her failing brain.
I stayed only a few minutes and told them I would leave them now for as long as they would like and return when Komer was ready to head home.
Then I drove around, crying like a baby.

Komer had told me a few weeks back that his heart was breaking.
"She is alive," he said, "But there is no joy in her life."
Then he wept.

When I returned to pick him up, the nurse helped him out of the door and he slowly came to the car. As he slid in, I asked if he had a nice visit.
"It was tiring," he said, "She won't sit still. Every second she would get up and wander. I had to keep bringing her back."
"Well sounds like you got your exercise!" I said.
I returned Komer to his apartment, and as I walked him to the door, I told him, "Komer, remember how you told me Evelyn had no joy in her life? I think you were wrong. Did you see how she smiled when she saw you walk in today? Komer, you bring Evelyn joy."
He bowed his head, and cried softly.
"Would you like me to bring you again tomorrow, after we get back from church?"
He nodded quickly, "Please!"

I hugged Komer goodbye, and asked if it would be ok if I prayed with him. As I hugged him, I reminded him that the Lord who loves us longed for us to be with Him through all eternity, with bodies that didn't give out, never forgot a loved one, and would no more suffer. And the joy of our lives would be with us always.

He shuffled slowly away, his cane tapping the pavement like a beating heart.

Psalm 90:13-15

 ¹³ Relent, LORD! How long will it be?
   Have compassion on your servants.
¹⁴ Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love,
   that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.
¹⁵ Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us,
   for as many years as we have seen trouble.

Isaiah 49: 15-16

¹⁵ “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast
   and have no compassion on the child she has borne?
Though she may forget,
   I will not forget you!
¹⁶ See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;
   your walls are ever before me.