With a Light from Above

We returned from the snow-burdened drive home from NY to see the Redbud trees in bloom here in Charlotte. Daffodils were already gathering and lifting their yellow crowns out of the dismal brown of mud. It seems this year we skipped right over winter. The Redbud made me think of my old senior friend Comer, as the first drive I ever took him on from his Assisted Living home was to see the Redbud in bloom. I remember how his wife Evelyn, newly diagnosed with Alzheimer at the time, was in constant tears and turmoil as she wrestled with the terrifying knowledge that she couldn't remember things she still knew she ought to. On that first drive to see the Redbud trees in bloom, she had been happy. She had named all the flowering trees we passed. For a moment, her Alzheimers was held at bay.

I knew as I drove to pick up the sweet old couple for a lunch drive yesterday that such a miracle was not likely again. Comer's health had been slowly worsening for a month, and he had told me Evelyn barely spoke at all anymore.
"She mumbles but nothing anyone can understand," he told me.
My teenage daughter does that too, I thought, in fact, all teenagers do. This has nothing to do with my hearing, I am quite certain. I parked in front of the building, leaving Asherel in the car and scooted into the entry hall.

Comer was sporting a new mustache, and Evelyn had just had her hair done. I could tell she had put on a good bit of weight, even in the month I hadn't seen them due to Comer's illness and my travels. Comer looked gaunt.
"You are looking quite dapper with that new mustache," I told Comer.
"Oh, I am just playing around," he laughed.
"How are you Evelyn? Your hair looks lovely!"
She mumbled some garbled syllables, with a beautiful smile.
"Ready for lunch?"
"Yes ma'am!" said Comer, taking his wife's arm. She garbled some multisyllabic mess again, and nodded.
At that moment, the singing activity group in the next room burst into a rousing rendition of God Bless America.
"Land that I love," sang Evelyn, clear as a bell,
"Stand beside us and guide us, through the night with a light from above," we sang together.

Asherel watched us approaching the car, both singing America at the top of our lungs. She shook her head slightly, a grin on her face. Comer joined in and our patriotic group got in the car as the last chords crescendoed.

I had been worried about my friends. Comer had had a devastating flu for nearly three weeks and then chest pain for several days. Evelyn no longer spoke spontaneously. Both moved more painfully, more slowly. As we drove to lunch, Comer told me, "I need to buy new clothes for Evelyn. She has grown out of all her old ones. She doesn't eat unless I feed her. My daughter says maybe I need to stop feeding her so much."
Evelyn laughed. Comer grinned at her.
After a pause, he said, "You know, I really enjoyed your book."
I had given him a copy of my latest book about miracles, "God Drives a Tow Truck."
"Oh, I am glad you liked it!"
"Did they ever find the tow truck?" he asked.
"The tow truck disappeared," I told him, "Just like I wrote. It was a miracle."
He sat quietly, holding Evelyn's hand.
"Well I enjoyed your book more than just about anything I have ever read."
"Wow, that is high praise! Thank you! Did you ever witness a miracle?"
"Oh many," he said.
"Tell me one," I begged.
"Well, when I was in Papua New Guinea during the war, I had a friend who was an aviator. They used to do bombing practices over the water. Lots of my battalion would go with my friend on those practice runs. They always came back and told me I ought to go too. They told me it was a real thrill. So one day, I went to my friend and asked if he would take me on a practice run. He was all set to do so, but then realized he didn't have a parachute for me. He told me, ' I'll get you one tomorrow. Come back tomorrow and I will take you on a flight.' So, the next day, I came back and I looked all over the hangar for him, and couldn't find him. So I asked his buddies if they had seen him. They looked kind of crestfallen, and sad, and asked me,'Haven't you heard then? He went on a practice run yesterday over the ocean, and he never came back.'"
"Oh no," I said.
"If I had gotten in that plane with him," said Comer, "I wouldn't have come back either."
"Did they ever find him?" I asked.
"No, they looked, but over the ocean....40 mile practice range...no, they never found him."
"God must have been preserving you for a purpose," I said.
We were silent a moment.
"Do you have another miracle you can remember?"
He thought for a moment and then looked at Evelyn, "That I found her."

There is such optimism in a man who is going on 94 years old who decides he might like to try sporting a new mustache. There is hope in a woman who has lost the ability to remember how to speak, but can still clearly sing every word of a song about love of country. Comer had been saved long ago for a purpose, and I suspected it was still being played out.

When we returned to the Home, Comer hurried to his room to get me a book he wanted me to read. I helped Evelyn sit on the entry hall couch. A little dog wearing a tiny tuxedo came trotting over to us. His owner poked her head out of her office.
Evelyn looked at the little dog sniffing her shoes and smiled at me.
"Oh," she said brightly and clearly, "How cute."

Psalm 36:9
For with you is the fountain of life;
in your light we see light.

Psalm 56:12-13 (NIV)
I am under vows to you, my God; I will present my thank offerings to you. [13] For you have delivered me from death and my feet from stumbling, that I may walk before God in the light of life.

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