My mother was 26 when I was born, full of life and dreams, I suppose, for her two little daughters (we would eventually become three on my 5th birthday). Now she is 86, and her memories of ever being a mother, or a wife or a teacher seem to have disappeared from her cortex by that robber called Alzheimer’s Disease.

She was married to my father for 64 years and adored him right up until their last morning together; but since the day he passed away, she has only mentioned him once or twice. It’s heart-breaking for those who know that somewhere in there, our mother’s essence still resides.

Because she still remembers God. She still senses Jesus’ help and prays eloquently.

Two weeks ago she rode away from the skilled nursing center where my father was cared for his last three years, and where she eventually joined him so they could at least see each other most days. There, her basic needs were met, and low wage workers did their best, but she received very. little. stimulation. and she literally . . . faded . . . away.

One recent Sunday afternoon, something snapped in my sister, and she set out to find a different placement. She discovered a new concept in assisted living memory care, a “neighborhood” of several houses with residents of varying needs living in a home-like (versus institutional) atmosphere, where an aide was frosting a cake in an open kitchen where residents were nearby in the  family room or in another house for an activity or hair appointment.

My sister was convinced that this setting was out of reach because of my mother’s stage of decline. She did everything she could to convince the evaluator that it would be a mistake to accept her. But my mom was warmly welcomed, with all of her quirks and needs. For all our fears, she didn’t even register that she had been moved, except to say, “You need to come visit quick, before they take down all these beautiful decorations!”

We know that the most stimulating setting will not slow down the onslaught of this disease–one week in, she qualified for hospice care. But imagine our surprise a few days ago, when we received a screenshot of our mother on Fox 4 News, working on a letter of encouragement to kindergarteners at a local school!

This is my “Ebenezer” for today . . . for I know whom I have believed, and I am convinced that he is able to guard until that Day what has been entrusted to me.” 2 Timothy 1:11