Caught somewhere between the reality of a three-year-old and a ninety-six-year-old, my daughter and I found joy on this day in late July.
It was somehow a terribly busy day in which we failed to accomplish all we set out to do. Then came that moment.
My mother who has recently suffered from bouts of dementia, especially when ill, began to tell a story. Four generations were traveling in my van together to take her for a scan of her neck. Yes, she had broken her neck in January and needed one final CT scan, however that is a story for another day. She began by saying, "I was going to ask Justin if this was real or not." She continued to tell an amazing story about her new apartment. "You know there is a fire alarm on one wall and a phone thing on another wall. Well, sparks were shooting between them and the alarm was making a sound like it was on fire." On and on she went with her story.
I reassured her, as I had done previously many times. I gently reminded her that if something seems too unusual or unreal, it must not really be happening. She patiently listened to me, and whether she accepted my analysis or not, she sweetly did not argue. Rather she described in more detail what she had "seen".
Three-year-old Wesley in the back seat was listening intently! I reassured him that what Beezy thought she saw was not real.
After a few minutes of quiet had passed, Wesley began telling a story. "Flames and sparks were shooting from the wall. The firefighters and police officers came to help." Wesley went on and on with his own animated version of the "spark story".
We were driving through the countryside and Beezy, my mother, began singing about the corn growing in Iowa...a song I had heard often as a child. Wesley told her the music would make the police officer stop our car.
And so our morning went. Wesley's mother and myself smiled and smiled. And patiently listened.
The three-year-old and the ninety-six-year-old had stories to tell us.
We were blessed today to be the listeners. And to contemplate the circle of life. Today we fit in the middle of the circle and could tell reality from fiction. Some day we will be somewhere else in the circle. Hopefully, someone will be listening with joy to our reality. Hopefully someone will still love us not matter what!
We had my Great Grandmother Ann and Dad's mother Leona with dementia at the same time. We were at our limits when a happy discovery was made: they were excellent company for one another. Forget now the discourse, but it always ended with the one stating, "How interesting! I've never heard THAT before," and them sharing a sigh. They would sit in silent contemplation, smiling at one another a minute or two before looping back to the start again. They spent most of a day like this, feeling heard, valued and unafraid. Christ's love always finds a way of transcending barriers. What a blessing your two experienced it too. Those echoes are a great comfort to me to this day. May yours do the same for you.
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