The Long Road:
She came slowly walking through the trees that line the east yard. Her face bronzed by the sun. “Hi Mom, beautiful day huh?!” I call out with much more enthusiasm than I feel. I can tell by her movements, this is not a good day. Logan, my grandson, runs to greet her, enthusiastically calling out, “Hi Gran! Whatcha doing?”
My heart is squeezed by sadness as I look into frightened eyes. She puts her finger to her lips and shushes him. “Be quiet. They are after me.” She says, looking out from behind the trees.
“Who’s looking for you, Mom?” I ask the question even though I already know the answer.
“They are. He is. Those guys at my house.”
This same scene plays out day after day, so I try the lines that have worked in the past to re-set a calm spirit within her.
“Why don’t you have a seat and rest here in the shade. We are enjoying the shade and just looking at the garden. Let me get you a drink.”
I notice how red her neck and face are. It is 90+ degrees and she is dressed in a black sweater. She likes it because of the buttons and embroidery on it. It is clear that her day has been spent walking. Always looking for home and yet unable to find it, because the home she is looking for is somewhere deep in her mind.
We finally coax her into the house and get her to drink some water and I put sunscreen on her face and neck. Her blue eyes look strangely out of place in a face so darkened by her constant traveling under the sun.
She is anxious to be back on the road to her house. I am grateful to live in a rural area that allows her the freedom and safety to travel like she does. If she lived anywhere else she would have long ago been confined to a home or in a nursing home.
I watch as she leaves the yard. When she gets a distance down the drive, I follow to make sure she makes it safely. Memories flood my heart as I watch her slowly walking down the road. She has walked this same road between her home and mine at least a million times over the last 30 years, bringing a special treat for her grandchildren, and then for her great grandchildren or just coming over to offer a hand with the house, the kids, life. We have visited over tea, sick children, piles of laundry, and flower magazines. She is my dear friend and I miss her already as I see her walk into her yard and disappear around to her front door.
God, help me to always see her as she was and as she will be in eternity. In the long road of Alzheimer’s, help me to have the spiritual insight to realize that this is just a short bend in the path You have for us. Thank you for eternity and healing.
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