By Toby Miller

The only sound that rang through the clear November morning air was that of the slow footsteps of Sam crunching across the gravel lane toward the barn. The sun had just crested the horizon and the frost was still white on the grass. The cry of the blue jay back in the fence row pierced the morning stillness and jolted Sam back to reality. He had been deep in thought. This was the Sunday he would have to tell his fellow ministers that it was time he needed to be replaced.

This had all started last week. Ella, his wife of forty-five years, had talked to him about his memory not being as sharp as it used to be. At sixty-five years of age, he knew they were both getting older and was sure that Ella’s mind was not as sharp anymore, either. Maybe it was her that they should both be concerned about the most?

But the argument that made him agree to retire as a minister all started when the penalty for his overdue taxes came in the mail. He was sure he had paid for it. He remembered writing the check and he even remembered taking it out to the mailbox. But when he went through his checkbook to prove that he had written it, no carbon copy could be found.

Have other ministers not waited to replace themselves until after seventy-five? he thought to himself as he hitched up the horse. As it was announced in front of the church that day, Sam saw the sympathetic looks in many of the members’ faces. However, he was a little confused why no one came up afterwards to tell him they did not think he needed to replace himself this early.

That following week Sam was in his tool shed working on his mower. He needed to change the drive belt and grease all the pulleys before winter. Suddenly, Frisky, the family dog, started his annoying bark right outside. Probably one of the cats, Sam thought as he walked to the door. Sam yanked open the door and yelled, “Pulley…quit it!” Frisky turned his head sideways and looked at Sam in a “what are you trying to say?” way. Then it hit him…he had called the dog Pulley! Why did he do that? And why could he not remember his name? It took Sam about five minutes before he remembered the dog’s name was Frisky.

As the months went by, Sam’s mind started getting foggier. He had been a man who loved to carry conversations with anyone. He could still understand everything, but his responses did not come out like they used to. He fought for the correct words…they just would not come. It made his mind weary to try to communicate with people, so he started to withdraw.

Time went on. It started getting challenging for Sam to remember what he did last week…or even last year, for that matter. His wedding day to Ella became crystal clear to him. He started telling anyone who would listen all the details of that day and how much he loved her. He enjoyed all the smiles that it brought to people’s faces.

He still very much enjoyed getting together with the family; they were so special to him. His twenty-four-year-old grandson, Steve, would sit with him at gatherings, and they would talk about Sam’s school years, which were now very vivid in his mind.

Then the fog began to thicken. This made Sam restless…what was happening? People’s faces started to become blurry, and he had to try to recognize their voices to know who was talking to him. This made his mind weary. Why was it so hard to think?

Then there was that night…the bright flashing lights of the emergency vehicle jolted Sam out of the haze and into reality. He was standing in the middle of the state road that went past their house. The officer was asking him questions he could not quite understand. All Sam knew was that he had been heading to his brother’s house…he had written him yesterday asking him to come over. Then Ella came out of the house onto the scene and took Sam back to bed.

The next day they had a family meeting and decided that Sam needed full-time care, as Ella was no longer able to provide all the care that Sam needed. The children agreed to take turns and provide ongoing care for their dad.

A year went by. Sam no longer spoke. When they prayed before their meals, Ella had to say it for him, or he refused to eat. A normal day consisted of getting Sam dressed, helping him eat breakfast, and setting him by the window so he could watch the traffic pass by on the road. Ella still had hope that Sam would get better, but also knew that the doctor had told her to expect the worst.

Their grandson, Steve, was now stopping by weekly. He talked to Sam and longed for another conversation like they used to have. The smile that Sam gave Steve when he walked through the door was enough for Steve to believe that Sam most likely knew who he was, even though he no longer spoke.

One Monday morning Ella and the caregiver loaded Sam into a taxi to go to the doctor. They needed to adjust Sam’s medication; ever since they were giving Sam the latest drug, he would not stop eating and was always so hungry.

Then it happened. They were almost at the doctor’s office when the taxi driver turned on the radio. The song “Where the Soul of Man Never Dies” began playing over the speakers, and deep inside Sam’s mind, neurons reconnected from long ago…and he began to sing along, to everyone’s great surprise.

Then he started to talk…he was at the neighbors’ singing and it was Sunday night. He was taking Anna home and he would ask her to go steady with him. He hoped she would say yes…because he was in love with her.

Tears started running down Ella’s face. He was speaking, but it was about a girl he dated long ago. For a moment, Sam became fully present. He saw Ella; he saw the tears in her eyes, and he realized what he had said. Ella saw that Sam was present and took his hand. What was happening!? But before more words were spoken, Sam felt himself slip back into the thick fog…and then he was gone. Back to the empty expressionless stare…Ella had lost him again.

As time passed, Sam became more and more restless. They increased his medication…but it did not seem to help anymore. Sam no longer seemed to know the woman by his side—but when she was present, the caregivers could tell Sam rested more easily.

The time came that Sam was no longer able to get out of bed and hospice was called. Ella stayed by his bedside and made sure that Sam was taken care of. He started eating less and she was so worried that he was not getting enough. She still had hope that Sam would come back, and they could have a conversation one last time.

Then one morning, they discovered food in Sam’s mouth from the evening prior. His mind no longer told him to chew or swallow. This was almost more than Ella could bear, for she knew the end was close. The family stopped by daily since they all knew that Sam’s days were numbered.

The undertaker estimated it was 2:00 a.m. on that cold January morning when God, in all His mercy, came and took Sam’s last breath. No one knows what Sam’s final moments were like, but they all gathered around his bedside that morning when they discovered he had passed. Sam’s life on earth was finished.

The church had just finished singing at the funeral that Thursday morning when Steve rose to his feet to view his grandpa one last time. As he walked up to the casket, he glanced over the faces of the family…yes, he saw the sadness, but he also saw a sense of relief.

Life is fatal, Steve thought, but Alzheimer’s is worse.

It seemed to him that they had already lost Grandpa two years ago. As Sam’s casket was being lowered into the ground at the burial site, questions began to form in Steve’s mind. He knew every life was in God’s hands, but as he looked at his wife and children, he wondered if there was something he could do to prevent this disease.

He decided he would find out. The thought of putting his family through something like this was almost more than he could take.

Part Two

A few months later, Steve sat in front of Dr. Walter, his family doctor. There is no better way than to talk to someone who has experience and education on managing diseases, Steve had thought when he made the appointment. He had his questions ready, but it was soon evident that the doctor was pressed for time.

As Steve slowly walked out of the office, Dr. Walter’s dismissive words rang in his mind, “There is no way to prevent Alzheimer’s. We are still working on discovering a drug that cures it.”

Something inside Steve told him he should not accept Dr. Walter’s words as final.

Part two to be continued next month....