Last week I had an unexpected opportunity to meet a most extraordinary woman named Carmen. Carmen made such a lasting impression on me, our meeting will likely stay with me for quite some time. I doubt, however, Carmen will remember me. In fact I know Carmen won’t remember me as this sweet little old lady is suffering from end-stage dementia.
Carmen is the 86-year-old mother of my friend, Larry, from my small group. Larry’s father, Ron — Carmen’s husband — passed away two weeks ago after his own long battle with dementia. Ron’s passing comes on the heels a mere two weeks after Larry’s father-in-law passed away from Alzheimer’s.
My meeting with Carmen came as the result of an unexpected detour on the way downtown to help serve refreshments at Ron’s memorial. Due to some unexpected scheduling changes in the service, Larry phoned me asking if I’d mind picking Carmen up for the service, as the family was needed at the church for some last minute details. Carmen is in a long-term care home and most likely not even aware that her husband has died. I was assured Carmen wouldn’t be alarmed at being picked up and transported by a total stranger and would likely be very happy to see me. I was relieved to find her exactly as promised.
Once Carmen was secured in the front seat of my car, it became clear that this sweet-tempered woman wasn’t aware of what was going on around her. Her body jerked and twitched without warning and she babbled incoherently and fretted because her voice sounded strange and raspy. Never having met her before, I asked her if she liked to sing and suggested that maybe her voice was raspy because she’d been doing a lot of singing. She brightened at my question responding with, “Oh yes, I love to sing.” Her joy was short-lived as she went back to her rambling.
I fought back my tears at the brutality of this disease hijacking this woman’s mind. Carmen was unable to string together complete sentences or thoughts. She offered up occasional noises, punctuated with irregular exclamations. My 25-minute car ride with Carmen filled me with a newfound respect for my friends Larry and Karen who’ve been battling this disease with both sets of their parents for the last couple of years.
What made the most profound impression on me after my brief time with Carmen was every few minutes her spastic movements stilled and she would breathe a sigh and quietly whisper, “Jesus … I need you. Oh, Jesus, I love you.”
I’ve not been able to get Carmen out of mind. I find myself praying for her throughout my day. Carmen’s prognosis is not good. Her disease has advanced to the point that normal body functions are slowly shutting down. Her brain can’t seem to send the necessary messages reminding her how to swallow so her food has to be pureed. It is likely Carmen will be joining her husband, Ron, in Heaven very soon.
I talked with Carmen’s brother after her husband’s funeral and learned that while in her 20s, Carmen had been offered a contract as a professional opera singer. Apparently she had an amazing voice but turned down a lucrative career to marry her high school sweetheart. Somehow — locked up in her demented mind, her soul remembered her love of singing; further proof that Scripture doesn’t lie for, “Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks.”
To me, however, the single most notable thing about Carmen is her love for Jesus.
Even as the dementia slowly pecks away at her memories and methodically steals her body functions, Carmen’s love and commitment to Christ is buried so deeply within her soul, she instinctually calls on the one name that will bring her peace. Even as disease robs her very essence from her, her love for Christ cannot be stolen from her.
None of us ever know what the future may hold for us, but we can rest in the knowledge that if we’ve lived a life in pursuit of Christ – as Carmen has – Jesus will not leave us or forsake us. Even if we forget our own names – His name will forever remain in our hearts.
My health may fail, and my spirit may grow weak, but God remains the strength of my heart; he is mine forever. Psalm 73:26 (NLT)
Blessings in Christ,
Kathy K.
Amazing job Kathy. You made me cry, again. I too have found myself praying for the family. Thank you for using your amazing gift for the kingdom.
A beautifully written tribute to a wonderful woman and a great family, whom we love deeply. Thank you for this fabulous offering!
Oh, Kathy, you brought tears to my eyes! Thank you for sharing with us such a sweet experience. I’ve often thought about what would happen if my mind went.. would I say things that will embarrass my family or myself? How wonderful to know the name of Jesus might be the last thing on my lips.