the bridge

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We had a lot of things to do that day, appointments and such. If you have been around someone with Alzheimer’s you know that just trying to get out the door is an ordeal… lots of questions to answer, anxiety, double checking purse contents. Add in the confusion of going in and out of many unfamiliar places and it was a stressful day for both of us.

I came back into the living room after putting something away, to find Miss Trish in tears. (A very rare occurrence.) I reached out and held her hand. She said, “Thank you, you’ve helped me cross the bridge of grieving for [her husband]. You’re a beautiful person and I know you have lovely things ahead of you in life.” (She had a wonderful way of putting things, didn’t she?) 

As a caregiver, I get to hold out my hand and say, “Let me walk with you,” to some who are facing their last, lonely chapters of earthly life.

It’s a privilege, it’s a challenge, it’s fun, it’s sad. It’s also hard because I know I’ll be saying goodbye to them, too. It’s something God specially made me to be good at and I love it.

Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you. (James 1:27 nlt) 

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(photos taken by Miss Trish, 3 years ago.)

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