Yesterday as I sat next to my aging Father and tried desperately to carry on a conversation with him I felt my face grow hot and my heart start to panic. In all the times I’ve visited him over the years, from the very beginning of his Alzheimer’s/Dementia diagnosis and his Nursing Home INCARCERATION, he’s never ever not known me.
He's not known other people, but never NOT ME.
I want my Dad to get well. That is what I’ve been asking from God, and anything less has been unacceptable. I’ve prayed for such a long time for healing to come and for the TORMENTOR that has invaded his mind to find a new home. Still, the intruder has stayed on. This un-welcomed visitor has now taken up permanent residency inside my Father’s brain and he refuses to go.
“This isn’t LIVING!!” I thought to myself.
“I HATE THIS!! He would HATE THIS!!!”
Truthfully I wanted to curse. I really did. But…there isn’t a vile enough word in the English language that can describe how it feels to stand along the sidelines and watch helplessly as a once vibrant mind turns into nothing more than a blank stare.
After almost an hour of soft smiles and sporadic conversation, I grabbed my purse and bent down to kiss the forehead of my restless Father.
“I miss you sooooo much, Daddy…and I love you!” I said. “I’ll be back soon!”
“I love you, too!" he added.
As I moved towards the door his voice continued…
“You know...you remind me of my little daughter, Becky Sue!”
And for that tiny moment, that memory was enough.
Blessings to you as God reveals His never-ending mercy…Rebecca