The title is poetic and stupid. But, I feel that its important to deal with this in some way that does not cause anyone else harm. That's kinda the trick of the Christian life, right?! Dealing with stuff in a productive and "healthy" way instead of lashing out and destroying a room full of stuff or setting a car on fire or what have you. So, here it goes...This is the grave of my grandfather. He doesn't totally look like the image that is on the front of the grave stone, but I understand that people do the best that they can. When I think of him and all of the time that I have spent with him, all I can do is come to the conclusion that he was a great man. I don't know if you have ever had a hero, but growing up, he was my hero. While I was a kid and causing all kinds of rebellious chaos, deep in the back of my mind, that's who I wanted to grow up to be. He was a man who always had time for you, always had a smile on his face, always took the time to teach you something. He was good at everything, and those things that he wasn't good at, he was extraordinary! You just can't top him. He worked in the coal mines, did photography, he could build anything that he put his mind to, he would always give you a hug, he made wise decisions, and when he didn't make wise decisions, they were at least fun decisions! Like for instance, he was driving his Lincoln Continental on a back road in Illinois, and I don't know if he was racing someone or what, but he ended up jumping a set of railroad tracks and busted out all of his shocks! Now, that wasn't the wise thing to do, but it had to be fun!
As he started to decline, he didn't really let on to anyone that it was happening. I can understand that he was probably scared. You only go through an old age decline once in your life. Things seemed to be somewhat OK until his 3rd wife left him. You can tell that it really broke his heart. It was shortly after this that he was placed in a nursing home. I remember the first time that I went to see him. I had just seen him about 4-5 months before this, and it wasn't the same man. My grandfather was hunched over trying to eat at a table with other elderly people. A nurse was helping him some, but every time that he tried to raise his fork to his mouth, his hand would shake and his mouth would shake. It was a struggle. I am not sure if I had ever felt sadness like that. Something surrounded me like I have never had before and it was like I was being crushed while I stood there. You find so many things that you want to say at that moment, but tears prevent it from happening. I tried to convince him that he had to walk as much as possible.
He had no concept of where he was. He began to deal with dementia, or had been for awhile. There were things that he and I dealt with in those few short months that he was there that I could never tell anyone. Things he said that seemed sane and very clear. Encouragement that he gave. Sometimes its just the way that he said things that let you know that you were special to him. And he began to recall to me many things that he thought were happening, but he always asked me to tell him if they were true or just him hallucinating them. I was surprised that he understood a little bit of what was going on.
It wasn't until around Christmas that things began to get bad. Pappaw was having TIAs, which are mini-strokes that occur over and over until they kill the person. Beth and I were running early in getting to his nursing home to go caroling throughout the halls. I didn't know it until I tried to talk with him and he couldn't talk. His tongue was swollen and he was trying desperately to talk to me. I asked him what was wrong and he said, "my tongue is swollen and I can't talk," and it occurred to me that he had just experienced a TIA. I asked a nurse to help, but there was nothing that they could do. It wouldn't matter if they ran a test or not. So I stood watching him struggling to talk and being unable to do anything about it... and there I am... completely helpless to make things better. Helpless.
I'm just curious, have you ever been completely helpless before? Have you ever stared at someone that you loved and all you can think is "he's sinking and he's going to drown, and I am completely helpless to do anything about it." Not one thing.
My hands could not fix the problem, my mind could not solve the puzzle, my thoughts could not formulate a plan, my heart could not conjure the right words, my expression could not receive a smile in response, my quick jokes could not ease the situation, my voice could not cry out for help, my eyes could not motion for resolve, my knowledge of the Bible could not come back with a form of Truth that set the predicament to rest.
Helpless. Agony and suffering is happening before my eyes and all I can do is stand there and watch.
I am not sure if I ever hated sin as much as I hated sin at that moment.
I mean, think about it... if Adam and Eve wouldn't have sinned (did what they wanted) and just obeyed (did what God asked of them) we would not have things like cancer, AIDS, and certainly not dementia.
Looking back now, if I think about it for too long, I cry.
But that's why we need Christ, right. He will make everything right.
I take comfort in the fact that Pappaw was a believer in Christ.
Sin is Hell. Let's be honest. Yet we are attracted to it with a fervor that we could never muster for Christ.
Everything will be made right. He's coming back, and I will see him again.
ONLY CHRIST make that possible. Praise His glorious grace.
