What was this man thinking? Was it possible for him to actually think at all? My father-in-law was sitting in his “Geri Chair” with his feet elevated to prevent swelling and promote circulation. Pillows and cushions were strategically placed in an attempt to hinder him from rubbing the skin off his legs and ankles. This man suffers from an advanced stage of dementia, not terribly uncommon for someone ninety years old. But, he also suffered brain damage in WWII. It was something for which, with the help of his wife, he could compensate and lived a somewhat normal life until recently. In these later years, he has not been able to compensate; his brain cannot keep up. Observing him in his chair, I wondered how much he still knows, how much he can remember, how much he can still trust God.
My father-in-law had what some may describe as “reckless faith.” He and my mother-in-law took many trips to Mexico to work with a missionary friend. He always performed some physical service; he was not a preacher. He would direct a few local Mexican helpers to build benches for various village churches; beds, bathrooms, dorms, and a kitchen for the missionary’s Bible School; and many other various projects. He knew a little about a lot of things and was not afraid to attempt most anything whether he knew about it or not. If there was a need, he and my mother-in-law went, regardless of the abundance or lack of funds and materials. His reckless faith entrusted God to provide. And, God always did, sometimes from unlikely and surprising sources. He would always have a story to tell, often more than one, about God’s provision for each trip. Some of the stories were amazing. Reckless faith, God comes through. My father-in-law really needs that now.
He can no longer talk. Most of his communication is limited to wailing. Once in a while he can say a few intelligible words, mostly yes, no, and to my daughters an “I love you.” He does communicate recognition of people and places at times. He also communicates some emotions. He shows anger and frustration, and he shows fear even to the extent of being terrified. We try to explain everything we do before we do it in an attempt to alleviate some of the fear. Sometimes he appreciates what we do for him. He still cries.
In the past he talked a lot. He loved to start discussions and then take an opposing position just to watch reactions. He also loved to initiate debates between two people or groups, then watch and listen. He also related stories of his childhood to our two daughters and was even beginning to relate some incidents from the war in the Pacific. He also related some of the “heated” comments he made to God after his wife of 40+ years died. She died peacefully in her sleep, but he was in turmoil for a number of years afterward. We went to Mexico once after she died. He was able to talk extensively to our missionary friend. That, and time, helped him some.
He can no longer feed himself. Sometimes he even has to be coached on the need to swallow. Most of the time he still appears to enjoy eating. He eats anything we fix and feed to him.
I remember how he always loved eating his set of favorite foods. He was a picky eater, and wife, then later my wife (his daughter) catered to him. He also loved providing big meals for others, especially some special groups. Once, we went fishing in the bayou of Louisiana to catch enough catfish to have a large fish fry for a home for fifty troubled teenagers and young adults in northern Alabama.
He cannot “go.” He cannot walk or even stand. He remains where he is placed. He cannot get out of bed on his own. He cannot hold anything. We carry him to the toilet and hope his body performs on “automatic.”
Ironically, he used to be always “on the go.” He could never be still. He could make things. He would do things for other people. If you needed something constructed, manufactured, or fixed he was ready to try. When he first came to live with us after his wife died, he build a tree house for my daughter, tried to engineer and construct a trolley and track to get firewood from the back yard, helped engineer and construct brick walkways in our yard, and installed a gymnastics bar for my daughter’s use. He was sixty-nine years old and working full time as a machinist when his wife died. He left the machine shop and started his second career with a stump grinder and bucket truck. He was in his early eighties when he sold the equipment but still worked laying sod, cleaning yards, and dropping trees. It was not until his mid eighties that he was forced to slow down. He continued to go and do until his mind deteriorated too much.
He cannot “go” now. He cannot “do” now. Sometimes it is difficult for him to just “be” now. Is he now less valuable to God? Jesus said something about feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, being hospitable to strangers, clothing someone who is destitute, helping the sick, and visiting those in prison. Jesus said if you do any of these things for the least person, it is as if you did it for Him. Who is that “least” person? My father-in-law did these things for others when he was able. Is he one of the “least of these” now?
I have had some real attitude issues toward him. Not too much in the early years of his twenty-one years living with us, but definitely more so in these last several years. Care for him dominated our lives such that we had no life apart from that responsibility. There were and are some things I am still learning about true ministry and sacrifice. He is one of “the least” now, and God has given us the opportunity to minister to his needs, to serve him. My wife and daughters started with a heart for that service. I must develop it.
And, as I look at him and try to understand his current thought processes (and he does have thought processes though they may not appear reasonable or logical to us), I see him more and more a child of God, more as one of “the least” Jesus referenced. My father-in-law is a child of God longing to go home. God will come for him, probably someday soon. Until God comes for him we will try to do our best for his comfort and well being as long as we can, and hope to see the time when his Heavenly Father comes to get him.
And I will guard my attitude, knowing that our service for my wife’s father is not a waste. He is still important to God, and for now God has entrusted him to us. Reckless faith? Well, maybe he can no longer do that one, but God has come through. God has made provision to care for him in this last stage of his life.
Break the Bread 