Last week, according to major news stories, Pat Robertson claimed that if a person's spouse has Alzheimer's disease, divorce is acceptable. I am confident that he is wrong.
When my dad was 60 years old, he was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's disease. Since Dad's mom and brother had previously died from the disease, the diagnosis was hardly a shock to us, yet no amount of preparation can prepare a family for what Alzheimer's does. Dad retired because of it, and he and my mom moved to Sioux Falls where he could be cared for more easily. Since she is younger by seven years, Mom continued (and still continues) to work.
Mom eventually became like his mom, too, and she worried constantly about him. While he could still handle being home by himself, he wore a bracelet which could be used to track his whereabouts should he get lost. At night, Mom slept on the side of the bed toward the door so Dad couldn't get by her without her waking up. She regulated his medicines and his schedule and she calmed him when he became overwhelmed. Mom took him to adult day care while she worked and eventually, when he became just too hard to handle on her own, reluctantly admitted him to nursing home care. Even there, Mom continued to visit regularly; became his barber, malt deliverer, and his entertainer; and remained his loyal friend.
My mom, who remains my hero because of the classy way she handles even the most difficult times, demonstrated to us kids what love really is.
According to the often-quoted 1 Corinthians 13: 4-8b, "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."
My mom had many reasons to complain through the years. Her plans for retirement with my dad disappeared along with his memories of her. As with any caregiver, she experienced her share of loneliness and of grief, but she was patient, and she was kind. She was not rude, self-seeking, or easily angered. She loved with a love that comes closer to the 1 Corinthians love than any that I have seen.
Even to this day, three years after his death, my mom beams when she talks of her memories with Dad. She reminds me of his gentleness and self-control, of his quiet sense of humor, and of his love for us and the grandchildren. We remember how, after speech failed him, he hummed a hymn during a worship service and how his eyes would twinkle when he'd recognize one of us.
With her attitude and words, Mom chooses not to remind us of the way Dad died, but how he lived, and in the process, teaches us all about the way we should treat our husbands and wives. Thanks, Mom.
