Keep Singing

Our family is on a journey we never anticipated. So many of our life journeys remain unexpected and take our breath away. In the spring of 2023, my mom underwent testing and received a diagnosis of cognitive impairment. Since that time, her diagnosis has changed. Vascular dementia is slowly stealing the pieces of my precious mother I once knew. It is a disease of slow goodbyes, highs/lows and extreme caregiver fatigue. Yet in the center of the swirling storm, in the cluster of chaos, there is a well of pure peace. Over the past year, I have learned it is a peace only He can provide. It is a peace that settles my soul and reminds me God is so good, even when our circumstances are not. Growing up, I was so blessed to be an integral part of a musical family. My grandmother, "Mamaw," was a famous gospel pianist. I remember all the special moments I sat beside my grandmother on her fancy black piano bench as she simply played some of the most beautiful music I had ever heard. I never learned to play the piano. Every time she started a lesson with me, I just grew sillier and sillier. I may have fallen off her piano bench a time or two. Imagine that?! She always told me we would start anew the next day. Her beautiful musical talents expanded to others in the family. When I was growing up, I remember every week night when mom left for church choir practice. I remember having great admiration for her, every Sunday morning, as she stood with the choir and worshiped the Lord through glorious, melodious songs. I especially remember when she was a featured soloist during the worship service. Music became a cornerstone of my Christian faith at a very young age. When you live with someone who has dementia, no two days are the same. Cognitive clarity on Monday can be followed by extreme confusion and crying on Tuesday. The cycle is unpredictable, and the emotional toll this takes on a close knit family is unfathomable. In the darkness and heaviness of this disease, I constantly find myself searching for something. I search for anything that feels normal. I search for something that will carry me back to the mom I once knew. Each time she laughs, my heart remembers the joy present in our home throughout my childhood. Every time she tells me, "We just need to pray," my sould celebrates the love contained in her big, big heart. As a former church secretary, she spent many years praying over all who walked through her office door. Today, I am convinced she continues this practice praying over the resident of the assisted living center where she calls home. Every time my mom sings, I remember one of the greatest attributes of my mom. Singing was and is her glorious way of worshipping her Lord and Savior with her whole heart. We recently attended a family funeral. For my mom, I knew the surroundings would be very unfamiliar and her reactions likely unpredictable. Yet, as the service moved forward, a miraculous experience unfolded before me. We sang three beautiful hymns during the service. When the pianist began playing, I looked on every screen for the words. No words appeared on the screen, but every word appeared in my mom's mind. Noone sang these songs louder or prouder than my mom. She sang every word of every song just like she did so many years ago. In these moments when the confusion faded, when the noise of the clamorous world softenend, I let my tears flow. I stood and stared in awe. I thanked God for his life and presence in the cornerstone of her mind. His presence will sustain us through the unexpected journey ahead.