Tuesday, April 1

How To Dance In The Rain

When both my parents passed away in 2007 within just a few weeks of each other they had been married for over 70 years. Often for couples of our faith who make it to that momentous milestone, a picture and an announcement is submitted by the family and this was done for my parents... it appeared in the LDS Church News, Fall 2005. All of their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren knew how devoted they were to each other, we were not surprised that they did not stay separated for long after the first went home to Heavenly Father.

Momma lost her ability to recognize who the many of members of her own family were, and even with daddy she was confused as to who he was... But he never stopped loving and supporting her, daily finding the humor and light hearted fun in their difficult health situations. Life for them was hardly pleasant physically, but each actually found something to be cheerful about as often as possible and they'd laugh about their bad memories and failing bodies. To the bitter end, they were both a joy to serve as a family. So it was that at their funerals we truly celebrated their lives, and it was impossible to speak of one without referencing the other. They were inseparably entwined in life, death and for eternity.

In light of all the weddings lately in the family I thought I would post this sweet little story here... It reminds me of daddy's loving treatment of my own momma in her last months of life. It's also really good advice. I don't know who to give the credit for it to... it's just something I received in my email many months ago that I saved to my journal: ~ PA

~~~

How To Dance In The Rain

It was a busy morning, about 8:30, when an elderly gentleman in his 80's, arrived to have stitches removed from his thumb. He said he was in a hurry as he had an appointment at 9:00 am.

I took his vital signs and had him take a seat, knowing it would be over an hour before someone would be able to see him. I saw him looking at his watch, and decided, since I was not busy with another patient, I would evaluate his wound.

On exam, it was well healed, so I talked to one of the doctors, got the needed supplies to remove his sutures and redress his wound. While taking care of his wound, I asked him if he had another doctor's appointment this morning, as he was in such a hurry.

The gentleman told me no, that he needed to go to the nursing home to eat breakfast with his wife. I inquired as to her health; he told me that she had been there for a while and that she was a victim of Alzheimer's Disease.

As we talked, I asked if she would be upset if he was a bit late. He replied that she no longer knew who he was, that she had not recognized him in five years now. I was surprised, and asked him, 'And you still go every morning, even though she doesn't know who you are?'

He smiled as he patted my hand and said, 'She doesn't know me, but I still know who she is'.

I had to hold back tears as he left; I had goose bumps on my arm, and thought, 'That is the kind of love I want in my life'.

True love is neither physical, nor romantic. True love is an acceptance of all that is, has been, will be, and will not be.

The happiest people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the best of everything they have.

'Life isn't about how to survive the storm,
But how to dance in the rain.'

1 comment:

Shelley said...

What a tender reminder that we have a sacred duty to our family and particularly to our spouse to 'remember them' even when they might not remember us through whatever circumstances they may be wading through in life.

I'm thankful my parents set the same kind of example of unswerving devotion and love.