
I was startled to learn that Alzheimers, as well as other forms of dementia, is considered a public health crisis. It is a public health crisis, although I don't remember hearing anything about it before I went to this workshop. Even afterwards, I listen for a mention on the news and don't hear anything. There are plenty of stories about Ebola, but nothing about Alzheimers. I am not good at statistics, but I remember at the workshop that they said it is a public health crisis now, and that it is going to get worse. It is worse in communities of color.
The other thing I remember is this: There are some forms of memory loss that are natural as we age. But Alzheimers is not a part of the normal aging process. It is a disease.
I remember back to the days when we were told that if we kept our minds active, doing crossword puzzles and reading and thinking, we could keep memory loss at bay. There are things we could do to reduce our chances. But when I look at my congregation, I know there are former avid readers and cross-word do-ers among those who are losing their memory.
There is one woman I visit who does not remember that her husband died thirty years ago. She thinks he died last year. Or last month. However, every time I mention the name of our church, she beams. "I go to that church," she tells me. Another woman imagines herself a little girl again, playing with her dolls. Sometimes she has long conversations with her husband, who has been dead for many years. One man became violent and his daughter had to remove him from one nursing home to another. But then, in the car, he suddenly said, 'I love you', something she had never heard him say. She almost drove off the road.
I remember visiting a lovely retired couple in their home. Every month I would bring them communion. He had ALS; she was legally blind. We had these wonderful conversations about music, art and travel until he became unable to speak; he could only blink his eyes yes, and no. After he died, I continued to visit her for a time. I remember how excited she was when she got one of those reading contraptions and she could suddenly read the Bible and her devotional books again for the first time. She was an active participant in a Bible study, and loved it.
And then, suddenly, and very quickly, she lost her memory. She became unable to care for herself, and finally, to speak.
At her funeral, I saw a picture of her in a nurse's uniform, during World War II, and realized how little I knew about her life. How little we know about each other's lives.
I'm struggling with this: that I do believe that it is our responsibility, part of the church's responsibility, to pay attention, to remember, to keep safe the vulnerable ones among us.
But how can we, if we are all losing our memory?
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