AN EMPTY SHELL We moved my mother into our home on December 28th, 1995. At that time I really had no idea what we would be letting ourselves in for. I had had very little experience with Alzheimer’s, and indeed had heard the word for the first time only a few years before. At a family meeting prior to bringing mom home with us, it was agreed that I would quit my job as a home health care nurse and stay at home with mom full time as her primary caregiver. My wife would continue working. She was – and still is – a RN working at one of the major hospitals here in Spokane, WA. The first few weeks of mom’s stay with us were not too bad. But gradually it got worse. Frequently I would long for my wife to call me from work, just so I could hear a friendly voice. As her accusations became increasingly worse, there were times when I wished I could just run away from it all. I’m sure that many people who have cared for loved ones with Alzheimer’s can readily identify. But God has never promised us that loving, and caring for another person would be a piece of cake. And that is especially true when the person reacted as strongly, and bitterly, as my mother did at times. But God did promise us that He would always be there, even if we did not feel Him there. Over time we came to realize that it is often our trials, and tribulations – if you will – that shape us into the person we eventually become. If we refuse to accept that, and run away, we can – and may - become nothing more than an empty shell. Jerry Ham [email protected] Could I but halt the surging tide, and build a tower in which to hide. Could I but change the night to day, and tell the world just to go away. Could I but halt the storms of life, and bypass all this toil and strife. If I was able to do all this, my life would surely be naught but bliss. If that were true, it would not be well, my life would become an empty shell. I’d not know pain, no anger, nor fear, nor the healing that comes with tears. I’d not know love that warms the heart, nor the lonely ache when we’re apart. I’d not know how to feel and care, to dry the eyes, or to brush the hair. A hand to hold, and love’s first kiss, there’s much of life that I would miss. So Lord I ask, please help me to see, the kind of person You want me to be. Jerry Ham 1999
Posted on: Mon, 08 Jul 2013 11:14:45 +0000
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