new church life: march / april 2014
I read this passage at my brother Martin’s funeral service in 1979. His
memorial stone in Michigan holds this quote, and I carry it with me with
love and appreciation for him. Today, it inspires me to remember that even
if a person can’t say what he wants, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want anything.
Martin couldn’t speak clearly in a way I could understand, but he could pull
my hair and turn my face toward his to get my attention. Though I didn’t like it
much as a child, it was, in fact, his way of communicating with me.
With those who have Alzheimer’s, I know they have things to communicate,
and if I can discover what the message is, or use my best guess and move
forward with support and encouragement, life is more satisfying for me and
for them.
I have spent my life’s work appreciating those who need a bridge, a lift,
a hand to communicate who they are and what they want. With preschoolage children and younger, with people who can’t speak or walk or live
independently, with many elders and their families, my response is the same:
to respect and value a person as he or she is.
(2) “Go and do likewise.” (Luke 10:37)
The story of the Good Samaritan inspires me to serve those who need
serving. Ray and Star Silverman, in their Rise Above It study of the Ten
Commandments, impressed me deeply in the class I took years ago, with
their emphasis on the Fourth Commandment: “Honor your father and your
mother, that your days may be long upon the land which the Lord your God
has given you.” (Exodus 20:12)
I love and respect my parents, but many people have challenging family
relationships, for understandable reasons. Regardless of the stories, the line
was held for all of us in the class to find a way to connect, to forgive, not to
be harmed further, but to release any pain and resentment for the sake of our
own healing.
In the live-in communities where I worked, mostly the relationships were
good between family members, but sometimes it came to light that this person
I was caring for didn’t have the best relationships with children or spouse, and
that there was not forgiveness for those hard times between them. If I had
challenges as their caregiver, I recalled what the Samaritan did for the man
who was ostensibly his enemy.
When a person has dementia, finishing his or her life here, I can do my best
to make the day go well, sometimes by giving space, sometimes by engaging
the person in good choices, always with hope that his or her life experiences
will sort out for the best.
182