Dementia and Dignity - Pt 4

I tell you this, brothers: flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. (1 Corinthians 15:50-52 ESV).

Our reading today brings us to the last of series assigning and recognizing dignity, especially in dementia. The mystery of personhood in the presence of dementia is a difficult one to grasp. Science cannot answer the question that relates to the soul that God created in connection to the body. The relationship is profound beyond all human comprehension. No one knows the precise connection between the demented mind and the real human person within. We simply cannot make that determination. Just as no one can determine the precise beauty of a butterfly until it actually emerges from the transformation of the cocoon, we cannot understand or imagine how God can bring real beauty through the losses suffered in this disease. I have been with many Christians at their death. Sometimes they are obviously in much pain from whatever illness has befallen them. Some have lapsed into a state that is barely recognizable as our loved one. They may be uncommunicative for weeks with slow labored breathing. However, when that moment comes and the spirit is released from this earthly bit of flesh, I have witnessed an inexplicable peace and tranquility that comes with death to the believer. One last thing I would say is that the encroachment of dementia in the lives of those we love is a gift to us. It tests our love as never before. One of the manifestations of dementia is that every moment is real to the failing person but the connection of the moment is lost. On more than one occasion as I have a conversation with my youngest brother who is in the initial stages of encroaching memory loss, he often asks me the same question multiple times in a short period of time. I must remember that in every single one of those questions, what he really wanted to know was if he was really there. His question was for information; he was really curious in that moment about whatever it was he was asking, even as I know he has been given that information numerous times before. The real test and the real question for me was, Would I patiently, graciously — as if for the first time on the tenth time — answer him with grace and interest, engaging the person who was there in that moment? Such challenges of love are no accident. They are a gift of God.