Seeing Through the Pollen

It's that time of year again when a fine layer of yellow misery blows on every gentle breeze then settles like dust in a deserted castle on every surface. The trees are resplendent, with lime green shoots unfurling into tiny leaves, popping open against the pure blue sky. If only my eyes would stop watering long enough for me to gaze upon its beauty!

Oh Pollen, thou art a cruel, cruel master!

It was time to trek over to the Nursing Home and see Mom K. Arvo had warned me she was doing very poorly while I had been gone the past week in Chicago. She had stopped speaking, often sleeping, usually moaning in pain, and the few things she tried to say were incoherent.

I walked into her room and she was wide awake.
"Oh Vicky!" she said.
Well that was an unexpected utterance. She knew me and my name!
"How are you?" I said, sitting down next to her bed.
"Well," she said sadly, "We just came from the funeral."
Before I understood Alzheimers, I would have asked, "What funeral?", and been completely confused since I knew she hadn't left her bed since breaking her hip. I have learned a thing or two during my experiences with my old friend Evelyn, and now Mom K.

Like a good lawyer, time to redirect!

"You will never believe what happened in Chicago!" I exclaimed.
"What?" she asked, forgetting the funeral.
"Your grandson, Matthias, won 4th place in the whole nation of law schools as the top speaker in the National Appellate Advocacy contest!"
Her face transformed from dejected sadness to euphoric awe. She grasped my hand and then clasped her hands together and began to pray out loud, thanking God for the wonder of her talented grandson who has brought her so much joy. I pulled out my camera and showed her picture after picture of my son at the contest. She kept shaking her head and smiling. We had a wonderful visit, and I left her smiling.

Ah-choo!!! In desperation, I took an allergy pill. Almost instantly life was worth living again. My red eyes cleared and I saw that the world in the blossoming Spring was unutterably beautiful.

Mark 8:25 (NIV)
Once more Jesus put his hands on the man’s eyes. Then his eyes were opened, his sight was restored, and he saw everything clearly.



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