“You see, that’s the thing in all walks of life. We are all going through something. And if you aren’t going through a trial right now, you either have gone through one or you will go through one. We can’t go through these trials alone. I’m not saying we have to tell the world, but it’s impossible to go through them alone. We can release those burdens and experience freedom in our sufferings if we will share.
“Our story is about an unexplainable love. It’s about a love that’s unimaginable. And it’s about a love that’s unthinkable. It’s God’s love. He has given us hope, and whether you believe it or not, He has used each one of you here today. He continues to bring us hope on this very day through your hearts, your hands, and your feet.”
Some of the caregivers wiped their eyes, and I heard sniffling around the room. I felt the presence of God; He was speaking to each of them.
I continued to share our journey and what it was like for us to reach a place mentally where we could move Mom from the comfort of her own home to a memory-care facility. I shared with them the events of the painful day we placed her at The Tradition. So many of them had no idea how Mom had arrived there—the Valium and the wine.
“You took over for us. You rose to the occasion. Some of you probably lost sleep over it. Some of you worked overnight. Precious Macy was constantly texting me updates. You showed up. I am sure some of you did not want to deal with my mom. You had the courage to show up. Daddy and I are forever grateful to each one of you.
“Fast-forward to where we are now. God is so good. When here with Mom, I still meet caregivers I have not seen who say, “Hey Becky!” I’m in awe of how you all know my mother. It goes back to your hearts. You genuinely care to know your residents, and my mom feels loved.
“You need to know something: When you give hope, you restore every heart that is broken. You have restored my broken heart. My heart still breaks, but He continues to restore it through each one of you in this room. The courage you have shown me makes me want to face this disease with my head held high. The strength you have shown me makes feel like I can do anything. The patience you have shown me helps me love even more. You build me up when I am down, just by your smile.
“Romans 5:1–5 says this: ‘Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.’
“God has given me peace and hope, not only because of my faith but because of your courage, strength, patience, kindness, gentleness, and love toward my mom. I thank God and thank you from the bottom of my heart for your hard work, the hours you put in, and for showing up each day.
“I pray for you. I pray that if you are going through a difficult time at home or in your personal life or even here at work that you remember how much God loves you.
“At church this past Sunday, I heard a woman say, ‘God permits what He hates to accomplish that which He loves.’ I don’t think God wanted Mom to have early-onset Alzheimer’s. But I know two things to be true: First, my mom used to tell everyone about Jesus. She has a heart for the Lord. If she knew this disease would lead one person to Christ, she would accept this disease a thousand times over. Second, I can now boast in the hope of the glory of God and I can now glory in my own suffering as I lose my mom and watch her slowly slip away.
“He loves all of us. And He wants us to feel loved no matter what we are going through. It’s up to us to choose to accept His free gift of grace and march forward through difficult times. In this we identify with Him through His sufferings and experience the glory and love of God that brings peace and hope to all.
“Each one of you is beautiful. Each one of you is radiant. Each one of you is courageous. Each one of you is strong. Each one of you is His. And there is nothing you can’t do with Him by your side.
“I often ask myself, ‘What is the big picture?’ Is it that my mom’s dying? Is it that she may forget who I am? Is it that my dad may be a widower? Is it that my kids won’t have Beauty, their grandmother, in their lives anymore? What is the big picture?
“For me, the big picture is glorifying God in all that I do and sharing the love He has shown me through Mom’s disease. And much of the love He has shown me has been through you.
“What is the big picture in your life?”
With that, I surprised Dad by asking him to stand with me. I wanted the two of us to look out at each “angel,” to take in their beauty and to note the love that exuded from their smiling faces.
I then said, “I have to give a shout-out to one of the best caregivers I know. He’s standing right here next to me.”
Daddy smiled with embarrassment and gave me a big hug.
“Daddy, you are love. You are joy. You are peace. You are patience. You are kindness. You are goodness. You are faithfulness. You are gentleness. You are self-control. You embody the nine attributes of a Christian according to the apostle Paul’s letter to the Galatians. We call those nine attributes the fruit of the Holy Spirit, and I am honored to be on this journey with you. I can’t imagine my life without you. I love you so, so much.”
Daddy and I hugged again and both cried. As I wiped my tears, I looked out to see almost everyone in the audience crying. God was so good that day. He spoke clearly and made each and every one of the staff feel immeasurably loved.
I closed with prayer.
Dear Heavenly Father, I thank You. I thank You for the sufferings in my life. I thank You for these beautiful men and women in this room who have taken such amazing care of Mom these last eight-and-a-half months. I praise You for Mom’s new home and the staff who pour out their hearts to make all of the residents and their families feel loved. I pray that You be with each caregiver in this room and continue to give them strength and courage to walk through these doors each day. Renew their minds daily and remind them of the big picture. Our hope is in You, God, and You alone. I thank You for sending Your Son, Jesus, to be Lord of my life. I thank You for this opportunity today to thank Your earthly angels and bring glory to You. Thank You for giving Dad, me, and our family hope through them so that You can restore our broken hearts.
In Your holy name I pray, amen.
When the luncheon was over, I couldn’t count how many caregivers came up to us, tears flowing from their eyes, thanking us for speaking. They hugged me tightly. Moved by how touched they were, I wished I could have thanked them even more. We had a connection, a bond that no person could rend. It was the bond of love.
TWENTY - NINE
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY, MOM
May 2017
“HEY, BEAUTY!” I CALLED AS I opened her door. “I’m here. It’s happy-hour time.”
It was Wednesday, and I had dropped the kids off at home and driven straight to Mom’s place. May was a busy time for us, being the last month of school, but I would not let anything interfere with our Wednesday and Friday happy hours. Not to mention there were assisted-living residents downstairs awaiting our arrival because they loved to watch us dance!
A month prior, I had begun contemplating what to do for Mom for Mother’s Day. I knew, though, that whatever I did, she wouldn’t remember it. It was painful to me to think she would not remember our time together.
In a cycling class in mid-April, I had a vision of Frensley and me, along with other mothers and daughters, riding in a class together. The more I thought about it, the more excited I became. After class, I asked the instructor, Aaron, if he ever led “private rides.”
“Absolutely! I do them often for brides and their bridesmaids or birthday parties. Let me give you the contact number for booking.”
That evening, I mentioned it
to Frensley, and she loved the idea. Within twenty-four hours, God had placed on my heart the idea of having a mother-daughter spin class to honor Mom on Mother’s Day. Although Mom wouldn’t be spinning next to me, I was riding for her, and Frensley would be giving me a special Mother’s Day gift at the same time.
Calling the contact number, I explained to the woman about Mom’s early-onset Alzheimer’s and my desire for a special Mother’s Day class for friends who had been a part of our journey. We booked a private ride, calling the event Pedal for a Purpose. She said that 100 percent of the proceeds would go to the cause of my choice, and proceeds from the sale of any retail item or cycling package purchased that day would also be contributed. This was a no-brainer! Mom’s gift from me would be a donation in her name to the Alzheimer’s Association.
The email invitation I sent read:
“Zyn22 Park Lane invites you to Saddle Up for a Mother-Daughter Pedal for a Purpose Ride in Honor of Rebecca ‘Beauty’ Bearden. One hundred percent of the class fee will be donated to the Alzheimer’s Association.”
The invitation included two beautiful pictures of Mom and me taken a few months before. It was purple, the color representing Alzheimer’s.
Emails poured in over the next several days, and within three weeks, forty-seven out of the fifty spin bikes were booked. Frensley and I couldn’t believe how quickly our friends had dropped their busy May plans to help us honor Mom.
Online, I ordered glow necklaces, bracelets, and flashing rings, and at a wholesale store, I ordered personalized cups as party favors. Preparing in the days leading up to our event could not have been more fun for Frensley and me.
I called my dad to share the fun news.
“Daddy, you won’t believe it. Almost every single bike is taken for our ride this Saturday. We are so excited we can’t stand it! I wish y’all could be there.”
“That’s so neat, Sarah. Y’all will have a great time. How special for Frensley to see her friends come support her grandmother’s disease and be there for her. Y’all really do have some special friends.”
“We really do. God has been so good to our family. Do you think you can stop by at the end so everyone can see Mom?”
“Well, I don’t know. It depends on her mood. It’s hard to predict. I’ll do my best to have her there, but I can’t make any promises.”
“No pressure. I thought it’d be neat if she could be there. We can all take a picture with her when we finish. You be the judge. I’ll understand if it’s too hard that day.”
SATURDAY CAME, AND FRENSLEY AND I arrived early at the studio. We set out the party favors: six cups and cellophane bags tied with purple ribbons. A staff member helped me light the glow necklaces and place them on each bike handle. The music was blaring, and Aaron was ready to start the party.
As everyone showed up, we hugged and Aaron helped them set up their bikes in the studio. A woman at the front desk brought in a big sign in purple and white that read “Pedal for a Purpose,” and we took a group photo while holding it.
Then Aaron dimmed the lights and yelled into his microphone, “All right, moms and daughters! Who is ready to ride?”
The class was amazing. Beginning in a dark studio, Aaron turned the lights to purple then hot pink, and some songs had strobe lights.
Aaron’s playlist consisted of current pop music, and several of his songs were about mothers and daughters. One song was John Mayer’s “Daughters.” He had put so much thought into his playlist. Looking over at Frensley pedaling next to me, I became emotional. Being around dear friends and my own daughter was the best Mother’s Day gift to me, especially knowing each minute of our class was in honor of Mom.
Little Ginny and her two daughters were next to Frensley and me in the front row. All the women who had prayed for our family over the past year were there. And the few who couldn’t be there, though disappointed, were there in spirit.
During class, girls screamed and whooped, pumped up by Aaron’s music and the things he said. Everyone felt inspired, determined to finish the class strong.
Everyone loved the hour of fun and camaraderie. The women and girls kept each other going, despite the difficulty of the class, just as they had kept me and Frensley going all year through the pain and difficulty of our circumstances.
During the last song, Aaron had us focus on pedaling as fast as we could. He was yelling out motivations to help us finish strong.
Suddenly, Big Ginny burst through the door and started dancing across the classroom floor. Though trying to pedal faster, I couldn’t help but laugh aloud. Putting my head down, chin to my chest, I prayed as tears began to roll down my cheeks. Of course Ginny would come in dancing, just as Mom would have done. You are so awesome, God. Her best friend showed up. Thank You, Jesus, for the perfect ending to this class. Greatest gift ever!
When class was over, we were breathing hard and cheering. How amazing it felt, having this class together. Aaron said a few things, and I walked onstage to thank everyone, knowing it would be emotional.
“Thank you, our dear friends, for being here today. This was the best Mother’s Day gift, not only for me, but also for my mom. Mom loved to give generously, and I am forever grateful to each of you that I can give generously to the Alzheimer’s Association in her name.”
As I choked up, I grabbed Aaron’s hand.
“Aaron, thank you for making this special day happen for all of us.”
As the lights brightened, I saw each sweaty face clearly.
“This ride will never be forgotten. You have prayed for my family and me for several years now, especially this past year. I could not have made it through without each of you. Thank you for coming!”
Everyone clapped and cheered. Some of the girls high-fived.
As we walked out of the studio, Mom and Dad were standing there. I did everything I could not to sob the moment I saw her.
“Mommy, you made it!” I turned to my dad. “Thank you so much, Daddy.”
The young girls who had been serving Mom over the past seven months—and some who had known Mom from her attendance at their sporting events—ran up and embraced her.
“Beauty! Hi, Beauty!”
I watched as Mom gazed at each girl. Looking absolutely beautiful, she was smiling so big that she glowed. Wearing a coral-and-white outfit, her hair parted on the side, with makeup as becoming as ever, she smiled radiantly. Mom felt so much love that day. She didn’t understand what was going on, but she knew she was loved, and every girl wanted to hug her. Dad wiped his eyes as Mom, in the middle of the room, stood surrounded by twenty girls.
I hugged Dad. All he could do was smile and hug me back. I knew by the look in his eyes he was saying, “Thank you, Daughter. Thank you.”
We had pictures taken around Beauty, one of the girls holding the “Pedal for a Purpose” sign. As they scattered to retrieve their belongings, I told my mom that every person there had helped raise money for an organization that helped the sick—a donation made in her name for Mother’s Day.
Mom’s jaw dropped to the floor. She stared at me for what felt like a full minute, processing what I had said.
“Really? For me? Wow. That’s so nice!”
She didn’t fully understand, but I knew she grasped that money was being given to help others, and that was all she needed to hear.
“Yes, Beauty. For you. Happy Mother’s Day. That is my gift to you.”
As everyone began to leave, they urged us to do it again next year.
Joyfully I said, “This can be the first annual mother-daughter ride! We will make it a tradition.”
Later that evening, I received a text from my dad.
“I love you, Sarah. I can’t believe all your friends, who love Mom so much, came out to support this. What an honor to share our lives with them. If Mom knew what you and your friends had done today, she would be so proud of you!”
I cried myself to sleep that night. Not tears of pain and sadness, but tears of joy. Tears full
of gratitude, appreciation, honor, bliss, pleasure, and triumph. Through God’s grace, I was an overcomer. He was helping me overcome.
“QUE SERÁ, SERÁ” PLAYS CONSTANTLY in my mind. Wherever I go, I hear those words. Mom and I sing it together weekly, holding each other’s hands and staring into each other’s eyes as we sing. There is something in it that she understands. She can’t express it, but she comprehends “whatever will be, will be.”
I’ve learned a lot about my mother through this disease. There really is more there than I know. Her brain can’t connect the thoughts with the words, but if I ignore the words and look at her facial expressions and her heart, I know what she is thinking and what she wants to say. I could easily convince myself she’s clueless, but that would be untrue. Mom isn’t clueless. She’s perceptive and feels things, even when she can’t express them.
And it’s not just Mom. It’s every resident on that fourth floor. They feel. They know love when it knocks on their heart. If I can spread love and bring happiness to their hearts, even a few hours a day, then that is worthy of my time. Spreading love is a gift, a privilege, and an honor. Why keep it to myself?
It’s possible one day Mom may just stare blankly at a wall, but even then I know she will feel the presence of love when I am sitting next to her. Eventually, she may not recognize my face, but she won’t forget she loves being with me. She may completely forget who I am, but she won’t forget she loves me and I love her.
I look back at my life, and I’ve missed out. I’ve been selfish with my time, and I’ve chased things that don’t matter. Now my only desire is to chase after more love. Love from God. He is everything. Alone, my love for others will never have the depth of love God can give through me.
Broken Beauty Page 27
