Over the last years I had prayed many times after visiting my folks, “Dear Lord, I don’t know how this can end well. Mom is in the nursing home and Dad, who has always been there for her, is now failing fast. His memory problems are becoming so much more apparent. You know how fearful Dad is of Alzheimer’s disease. He’s always been a bad patient and now he dreads the possibility of having to be dressed, fed, bathed, and becoming dependent. I’ve seen this many times before with others, I don’t see how this can end well. Help us, Lord.”
In the weeks after Dad had the stroke, he remained in a coma. My brother Marty and his wife, Mary, agreed to share the vigil. I took the day shift and they took the nights. The time seemed to fly, with pastors, church members and people from the nursing home coming daily. I passed the days reading to Dad from the Bible and singing. I especially liked singing his favorites, “How Great Thou Art” and “Heaven Is My Home.”
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