Back a couple of
years ago I received a call about my sister, Betty. She had been diagnosed with Lewy Body
Dementia, which is very similar to Alzheimer's.
At first, the individual is aware that “something is wrong” but cannot
control the downhill spiral. In fact,
one summer when she and her husband came out to visit, twice at different times,
Betty said that she felt like she was losing her mind. Not having seen her in a while, neither Kim
nor I saw anything different. Betty
seemed like Betty.
This diagnosis
hit me hard. Coming from a big family,
the older ones took care of the younger ones, and I was Betty’s “charge.” She and I grew close, very close, and I can
remember so many Christmas’ and Thanksgivings and camping trips. I have nothing but very fond memories and
that is how I will choose to picture and remember her – always! Not in her present state.
I’m betting that
there are many of us, perhaps all of us, who have received such phone
calls. Calls in the early morning. Calls in the dead of night. Calls in the middle of a laugh or a good
story or a wonderful meal.
The Call is an
unwelcome intrusion. It is seldom a call
with good news, though we do receive some of those. Hopefully, we receive more of those than the
other, not so good or welcome kinds of calls.
October is
Cancer Awareness Month. All types, I think, because one is no better or no
worse than the other. Cancer is
cancer. It is scary and worrisome, not
only for the recipient of The Call, but for those of us who live with those,
who love those, who receive The Call.
As I said, The
Call is unwelcome.
As I write this,
I think of Tom, one of Kim’s and my best friends. I think of his wife, Carol, his son,
Jarrett. I think of my niece. Two of my brothers. Other family members, both immediate and
extended. Co-workers and
colleagues. Friends I know well, others
more of an acquaintance. Some battling
courageously. Some who have,
unfortunately and sadly, been defeated.
Never without a fight, though.
Never without a fight.
In fact as I
write this, I am aware of folks I rub elbows with each day, many times a day,
who are silently and courageously fighting this battle. Either they or their loved ones. Some folks we know about, while others choose
to keep it quiet and only for family and a few close friends who know. Some of these folks we never know about, but
we do know they are out there among us.
Perhaps scared. Perhaps
frightened. Perhaps feeling very much
alone. But with an undying hope and a
deeply held faith.
So today, this
post is for you. Each of you. To those who have suffered. To those who have received The Call. To those who are still battling.
I have embedded
a link to a song sung by a little girl to her mother. Her mother is battling bravely. Her daughter wanted her mom to know that she
wasn’t alone. Her daughter wanted her
mom to know that she wanted to help her.
To stand beside her. To know
that she deeply loves her.
Please take
three or four minutes to watch and to listen.
Hold those close to you tightly to your heart. Keep their valiant struggle in your mind, in
your thoughts, and in your prayers. They
deserve it. We deserve it.