Mansions

"Shall we be really wicked and get french fries too?" I asked Evelyn, as I held her arm and steered her out of the Alzheimers Unit.
"Oh yes!" she smiled, " I like french fries!"
"Do you like french fries too, Comer?" I asked Evelyn's devoted husband, who shuffled along slowly clutching her other arm.
"Oh yes!" he said, "Anything is fine."

As he steered Evelyn towards the front passenger seat, I said,"Evelyn, would you prefer to sit in the back, next to Comer? Then you two could hold hands."
She giggled, "Yes, I'd like to hold hands." Comer smiled at her and patted her wrinkled hand.
"But then you'll be all alone up there," he said to me.
"That's all right. I will be your chauffeur. I will be your tour guide today."
"Well then that would be lovely," he said, his eyes sparkling as he gazed at his wife. You would think I was taking them on an all expense paid trip to Paris instead of just a drive with fast food balanced on their laps through Charlotte neighborhoods. Their gratitude over the simplest activity is remarkable.

In the end, we didn't find french fries since they requested a roast beef sandwich and I just could not find an Arbys. I had never noticed that there are no Arby's on our side of town....or at least, I didn't know where it was. We settled on a delicious deli. I ran in to get the roast beef sandwiches, while the happy couple sat in the car holding hands. However, the deli had no french fries. Just potato chips.

I opened the chips for Evelyn, and laid out the sandwich on her lap. She dove into the potato chips.
"Shall we go find some beautiful homes to look at?" I asked.
"That would be wonderful!" said Comer.  Evelyn munched her chips.
Comer and Evelyn love looking at mansions. I find as I drive nowadays, I am always scoping out likely neighborhoods along the way where rich people flock so I can bring Comer and Evelyn there.

"Your tour today will be of the lovely Ballantyne Country Club," I said. I glanced in the rear view mirror. Evelyn was still eating potato chips, her crunching like a metronome.
"Mother," said Comer, "You got to eat your sandwich now. Put down the potato chips." He took the chips away and handed her the enormous sandwich. She took a bite.
"Is the sandwich good?" I asked.
"Well...." said Evelyn, looking a little mournfully at the chips.  But she ate every bite of that enormous sandwich as we drove slowly amongst the mansions.
"That one looks like my house," she said, pointing.
"That one?" I asked. Comer glanced over, and Evelyn snuck a potato chip.
I waited for some confirmation from Comer. I assumed she was talking about the large home they had owned in Atlanta. He didn't say anything. We meandered among the rich people's neighborhood for two hours. I thought about mansions. Comer had at one time been able to afford those mansions, though those resources were being depleted rapidly by the expensive facility that they both needed now for their health issues. But it wasn't the mansions themselves that the two of them missed. They missed being able to hold each other's hand through the long, lonely nights. When we returned, I dropped Evelyn back at the Alzheimer's Unit, and then we drove on to the Assisted Living building where Comer lived.

Evelyn grows agitated often in the evenings. This is apparently not an unusual issue with people with Alzheimers. They are called "sundowners" and sometimes must be restrained at night. These dear old friends are my first experience with Alzheimers, but surely somewhere there is a facility where a husband and wife can remain together when one is stricken with Alzheimers. It just seems like yet another slash of the cosmic knife to take the one link to her past that she still remembers away each day. Every time when I return her to the Alzheimer's Unit she cries. And she cries harder when Comer leaves her in her room and shuffles sadly away.

I imagine it is not longing for mansions that makes them both love those drives gazing at homes. I think perhaps it is looking out at places where families are together, all breathing the same air, sharing the same food, watching the same mud and dirt stains on the rugs (at least if it is in my house....).  It is the same longing I think we all have. To be with those we love. Ultimately, when the rest is stripped away, it is easier to understand what really matters, where our deepest longings lie.

Jesus talks about mansions too. And He promises that there is a place reserved for each of us when we check in. There is no separate unit for our various disorders. All that is left behind.

John 14:1-3

 ¹ “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God,  believe also in me. ² My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? ³ And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.