An emcee was announcing the names of the different groups and teams walking across the finish line.
“Thank you, Team CC Young!”
“Way to go, Team Boyd!”
Then I heard the words: “Here we have The Tradition caregivers! Way to go!”
I took off running, pushing through hundreds of people to reach the finish line.
“Macy, Macy! Patrice!” I yelled.
“Oh my gosh, Sarah! We’ve been looking for you.”
Mom’s earthly angels were there with me at the finish line, and it was perfect. We took our picture together. It’s one I will always cherish.
“Macy, I’m dying to see Mom today. Do you think it’s okay if I pop over there? Is it too soon? I know I just saw her Tuesday, but I am dying to see her.”
“Absolutely. Go see her. Your mom is doing great, and you can see her whenever you want. You are a wonderful daughter!”
God knew the desires of my heart that day, and He was fulfilling them.
The girls and I lunched together at the hotel, and I couldn’t believe what we had done. I couldn’t wait to show Mom the video of Ginny dancing on the stage. Mom wouldn’t know why she danced, and I wouldn’t tell her, but she would laugh and laugh and laugh. I wanted to see her gap-toothed smile, her ugly laugh-cry face with the squinty nose, and the tears of happiness that would run down her face. That is exactly what Ginny had done. She’d brought happiness, joy, tears, laughter, and fun throughout the entire day.
That afternoon, I went straight to see Mom. I had to hug her. I had to tell her how much I loved her and thank her for all she had done for me. Even if she didn’t remember anything I said the following day, I would know in my heart I had told her and would have no regrets.
My heart was on fire and full of love. Although my heart was broken, it was being restored by God, my friends, and the choices I was making to find joy and rise above the pain. I refused to let that dark spirit stalk me. The moment it tried, I would seize it and pray.
• • •
THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, I saw Mom five days a week. My mission became loving on her, and as I did, I began to fall in love with every resident on her floor. They were becoming my friends, too. The more I saw of them, the more comfortable I felt staring into their eyes and telling them how much I loved them. As I touched their shoulders and hugged them, I told them God loved them, too.
Mom would ask, “How do you know all of these people?”
I’d respond, “Well, Mom, I come here all the time to see you, and they’ve become my friends, too.” Mom would smile, touch my hand, and kiss me on the cheek. Deep down I knew she loved seeing me serve others because that was what she had done her entire life.
I was serving a purpose, which was to love others no matter what I was going through. Jesus bore the cross for me while in deep agony and pain. He was my example. Why couldn’t I pour out love through my pain and suffering? It was nothing compared to His.
Several people had texted me for updates on the walk. Deciding to send an email, I wrote in the subject line, “Making Broken Things Beautiful.”
The Alzheimer’s walk was indescribable. It was a twenty-four-hour tidal wave of emotions. I was struggling with the sadness while also seeing that I wasn’t alone. There were thousands of others around me who were either going through or had gone through the same heartbreak. I didn’t think I was ready to walk for Mom because it would make me face her disease and accept it even more; yet, of course, I wanted to honor her.
I was overwhelmed with how God showed up those twenty-four hours. He showed up through my friends who surprised me at the hotel the night before to walk with me the next morning and through other friends who planned things behind my back! He gave me joy to dance onstage with my mom’s college roommate, to know the incredible joy my mom had with her back in the day. He even showed up at the finish line when I ran into Mom’s caretakers after looking for them the entire morning. It was an absolutely beautiful day.
There is nothing sweeter than the love I see in my mom’s eyes. I am so grateful for the past few years I have had with her. Mom has poured her (God’s) love on me my entire life, and to love her back and give her my time . . . there is just nothing sweeter. She wasn’t perfect. I’m not perfect. There were mistakes made along the road, and there were things Mom said and did she wished she could take back. Don’t we all have things we have said and done that we wish we could take back? The great news is He offers forgiveness along with His grace and mercy. Make time for those you love because if you don’t, you miss out on so much love that He wants to pour over you! Friendships and relationships become meaningless if we don’t give Him and one another our time.
The Lord has given me all I could want. I see pain, but He sees purpose, and I am finding His will and purpose in my life through this. To love better. To serve better. To give Him glory in all things. All I know is because He is alive, I can be courageous. He can make the broken things beautiful.
Thank you beyond words, and may He reveal His love to you today in an amazing way. He is a good, good Father!
XOXO, Sarah
The responses I received from that email were astonishing. People were inspired and empathized with me about their own circumstances. One friend said, “Don’t focus on what is lost, but build on what remains.”
There are blessings inside the pain. The scripture that kept coming to my mind over the next month was Joshua 1:9: “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go” (NIV).
God had a tight grip on me, and my eyes were opened enough to see that He loved me no matter what I was going through. He could and would give me the strength and courage to march forward. This journey was going to be difficult, but if I trusted Him and poured my heart into Him, He would provide for my needs.
TWENTY - FIVE
LIFE’S A DANCE
October to mid-November 2016
I TOOK MY DAUGHTERS TO SEE Mom for the first time since her placement. They couldn’t wait to see Beauty. Emery, however, was nervous. She was afraid Mom wouldn’t remember her. It had been nine weeks.
“Mom, will Beauty know who I am?”
“Oh, Emery, yes, she will know who you are. Now, is it possible she’ll forget your name, yes. But she will know the moment you hug her and look into her eyes that you are her granddaughter who loves her deeply.”
Emery nodded without saying a word. She was scared and sad, but she also knew she’d had more quality time with me those nine weeks than over the past year.
“Just be yourself,” Frensley told Emery. “Mom is right. Beauty loves us no matter what happens or what she loses. We just need to love her the same.”
I kept both hands on the steering wheel as I looked into the rearview mirror at Emery’s big brown puppy eyes and Frensley’s huge hazel ones. My two precious daughters on the journey with me, fearing the unknowns of Alzheimer’s disease—yet their experience was different, because it was through the eyes of a child. I couldn’t relate to how they felt, so all I could do was pray.
Oh God, thank You for Frensley and Emery. Please be with us today and help us radiate Your love. Be with the girls as they go through this difficult time of confusion and mixed feelings.
The moment we walked into Mom’s room, her eyes lit up and she stretched out both arms.
“Oh, Emery! Frensley! Come here, give me a hug!”
The girls hugged Mom. Emery was hesitant and reserved, but Frensley hugged her with confidence.
“Hi, Beauty!” Frensley said. “I’ve missed you. I love your place!”
Mom rolled her eyes. “Ohhh, come on in. It’s little.”
“Yeah, but I like it. You and Pop don’t need a big room. It’s just the two of you!”
Praise You, God. Thank You for giving Frensley Your words and wisdom today.
Emery chimed in, “I like it a lot, Beauty! You look so pretty today.”
Mom gave the girls a tour of her new place, so we walked around the hallways. Mom was happy but kept getting lost, and every time she saw a caretaker or resident, she would say, “I don’t even know who that is.” By the end, Emery was laughing. I felt thankful to see their bond was still intact.
We were in the sitting area outside Mom’s room when we heard “Sugar, Sugar” by The Archies come over the speaker. The next thing I knew, Mom was moving her shoulder forward and backward. She gave Emery a wink, nudging her to dance with her.
“Uh-oh, Beauty wants to dance!” Emery yelled.
Mom started laughing, kept moving her shoulder, and then finally stood up and starting shaking her hips.
“Beauty! Oh my gosh, Beauty!” Emery couldn’t stop laughing.
I said, “Emery, go on—dance with her!”
“No! Frensley, you dance. Go dance with Beauty!”
Frensley gave Emery a sassy look. “I’d love to dance with Beauty.”
And there they went, Frensley and Beauty dancing back and forth to “Sugar, Sugar.” I walked over to the sound control panel on the wall and cranked up the volume, and before we knew it, we had a full-blown dance party.
Emery became our videographer after I handed her my phone. Mom and Frensley and I danced together, getting lost in the music.
Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and turned to find Emery dancing behind me.
“Yay, Em! Come on, get in the circle with us.”
The four of us danced to three songs in a row. It was the most beautiful time with my mom and daughters.
Thank You, God. A dance party. Only You could orchestrate a dance party on the girls’ first day with Mom. You are so good.
OVER THE ENSUING SIX WEEKS, I spent as much time as I could with Mom. Dad went more often, and I’d show up when he needed to leave. We had a tag-team system because it was easier on Mom for Dad to leave if I was there to replace him. She would forget minutes later that he had even been there.
Mom and I attended the facility’s chair exercise class together, and anytime a fun song came on over the speaker, she would look at me, wink, move her shoulder forward and backward a few times, and then look back up at me with a smirk. That was her signal. It didn’t matter where we were—we danced on the outdoor patio, in the dining room in the middle of dinner, and while others watched television in the room next to us. Mom and I were in our own world.
Louie, the caregiver who’d dressed up as Billy Bob the first day Dad and I visited, had stolen Mom’s heart from the beginning. He loved to dance and had a passion for bringing joy and smiles to every resident. He danced with Mom so much that they had their own routine. I knew he had danced with her when we weren’t there because Mom knew what to do. Louie was consistent, dancing with her daily, and she began to feel comfortable and move on her own without missing a beat. She trusted and felt safe with Louie. The moment he walked in the room, she would nearly jump out of her seat.
Louie came in the dining room one afternoon during snack time. “Hey, Becky! Is my dance partner ready?”
“’Course!”
Louie went over to her seat, pulled out her chair, stuck his arm out to help her up, and walked her to the open area. They held hands, doing the twist together. They had this move where they would jump back two or three times while holding each other’s hands, then he would twirl her around. Mom never took her eyes off him. He led, and she followed. By the time the song was over, Louie had sweat dripping down his face and Mom was out of breath.
I loved watching them dance because it was also great exercise for Mom. She was using her legs and glutes, and she was forced to listen to the beat of the music and try to dance to the rhythm. I didn’t want Mom to lose her rhythm. She was a dancer at heart.
They made me want to dance, too. I love to dance, even though I sometimes feel embarrassed and self-conscious. But, I asked myself that afternoon, why be embarrassed? These new friends of ours loved watching people dance. They wouldn’t remember how I had danced; they would simply have joy in their hearts.
There is no greater gift than loving someone, especially someone in need, slowly dying from a chronic illness. I wanted to put my faith into action and care for the sick and visit all the residents, not just Mom.
THAT EVENING, I BEGAN TO think about ways our children could serve. Our kids attended a classical Christian school, where they would sing hymns and recite poetry to all the parents and grandparents in November.
Why not bring the hymns and poetry to the residents? The hymns were traditional, which most of the residents would recognize, and as the staff had told me on more than one occasion, music brings back memories for those with Alzheimer’s and dementia.
I kept telling myself, Emery’s classmates and their moms may not want to do this. Their schedules are so busy. I went back and forth. It seemed like a wonderful idea, but I didn’t like imposing.
A few days later, I received a text from my friend, Betsy, who had a daughter at school the same age as Emery. She had lost her mother to Alzheimer’s disease.
“Sarah, a thought keeps coming to mind. It may or may not work, but if it did, I thought it would be fun to take a group of girls to sing at your Mom’s memory-care facility during the next couple of months. We did that with my older daughter years ago, and it was such fun. Plus, the residents loved hearing old hymns and seeing sweet faces. You know best whether this would be appropriate. I’d be happy to help coordinate.”
I responded almost immediately.
“I just told my dad that idea the other day. I want to cry. Absolutely we should plan it. Such confirmation from God, you have no idea!”
God knew I needed Betsy. I needed her messages to encourage me and assure me that it would not only be a gift to Mom and the residents, but also a gift to each of us who participated.
Macy was so excited about the idea that we set a date within twenty-four hours of our conversation. Friday, November 11, was it.
Sending out an email the next day, I couldn’t believe the responses. People were overwhelmingly excited. Almost every mom replied, “We are in.”
NOVEMBER 11TH ROLLED AROUND, AND I couldn’t wait to see the fifth-grade girls in their uniforms stand up and sing old hymns to the residents. I anticipated the looks on their faces and how the music would move them. I did not anticipate, however, my emotional reaction as they sang.
The girls’ first song was “My Hope Is Built on Nothing Less.” As they sang, I saw one of the residents tapping her hand on her wheelchair. Another resident began to grunt to the beat. The girls’ voices filled the room with peace, love, and comfort, and their sweet faces brought smiles to everyone.
Mom took in every single note and word, despite her deteriorating mind. Tears streamed down my face as I watched her.
She was one of the residents moved by music, one of those who wouldn’t remember after the kids had left why their heart was full of joy.
Gloria, a caregiver, belted out the chorus with her rich African accent. She loved Jesus, and it gave her an opportunity to sing praises to His name.
They then sang “O Great God” and “In Christ Alone,” and the louder they sang, the more movement I saw from each resident. A foot tap, a hand clap. A few had their eyes closed but their heads were moving, and some were mouthing the words. It was astonishing! The music was moving their souls.
The girls recited the Lord’s Prayer in sign language. They had practiced all fall and were going to recite it for their parents and grandparents the next Friday, before Thanksgiving break.
Kneeling next to Mom during the Lord’s Prayer, I put my arm around her as she began to say some of the words out loud. I could hear her voice, and I could tell she was searching for words she once knew by heart and prayed daily. I heard another resident join in
the prayer, and then another resident: “For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever and ever. Amen.”
The moment they finished, I heard Louie yell, “Woo-hoo!” I could feel the presence of the Holy Spirit moving all the hearts in that room—the residents’, Mom’s, the girls’, their parents’, the caregivers’, mine.
The last thing the girls recited was Matthew 6:20–34. The final verse says, “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own” (NIV).
That verse had long been embedded in my heart and mind, but now I heard it while sitting next to my mom, who was dying of Alzheimer’s disease. God spoke to me again that day. As I held Mom’s hand, I knew He had her in His hands. He was reminding me not to worry about what the next day would bring, or even the next year, but to focus on that day because that day was a gift from Him.
The room broke out into applause and cheers when the girls finished. It was such a beautiful presentation of God’s love poured over them by those precious girls.
After their presentation, the girls snacked on chicken fingers and funnel cakes while Louie prepared the room for bowling.
The girls had never seen a blow-up bowling ball and pins before. The excitement on their faces was priceless. Louie lined the pins up and gave each girl a chance to roll the big, bouncy bowling ball towards them.
Emery went first.
Louie cheered with excitement, “All right, Emery, show us what you got. On three, roll that ball and knock over every one of those pins.”
Emery smiled and blushed from the attention.
“All right, everybody, let’s see if she can do it!” Louie shouted. “Yell with me: One! Two! Three!”
Emery rolled the ball and hit every pin except one.
“You get one more chance to get a spare! Are you ready?” Louie challenged playfully.
All the girls yelled, “She’s ready!”
Broken Beauty Page 23
