Nearing Home - Billy Graham [33]
I have heard similar stories. An author recently told about watching her father suffer from the effects of dementia. He had not spoken in months and had not called her name. But just before he died, she took his hand and began reciting the Lord’s Prayer. He spoke every word with her with clarity.
Watching helplessly as a loved one’s memory relentlessly fades must surely be one of life’s hardest burdens, and those who endure it deserve our compassion and prayers.
The occasional memory lapse, however, that comes to all of us with age isn’t serious; it only reminds us that we aren’t as young as we once were. At worst it may be mildly embarrassing; at best it may even be humorous. A few years ago I was being introduced at a reception by the host, a man about my age whom I had known for many years. He was recalling to the group how we had first met through a mutual friend we both knew well. “His name,” he announced, “was . . . was . . . oh, it’s on the tip of my tongue. I know it as well as I know my own name. It was . . . it was . . .” He finally asked me in exasperation, “Billy—what on earth was his name?” But I had to confess I couldn’t think of it either—and we both dissolved in laughter at our aging memories. It calmed our fears when a minute later the name came to us.
WHEN HIDDEN PERILS COME TO LIGHT
We can see ourselves in many Scripture passages, such as this one:
You sweep men away in the sleep of death;
they are like the new grass of the morning—
though in the morning it springs up new,
by evening it is dry and withered. (Psalm 90:5–6)
His description is all too realistic, I’ve discovered; dry and withered are exactly how every older person I have ever met feels at times—including me.
While the physical and mental effects of old age are obvious, aging often impacts us in ways that are less obvious. These are the emotional and spiritual reactions to growing older that can easily overwhelm us if we aren’t on the alert for them. And yet, because they aren’t as obvious as a broken hip or a lost memory, they often sneak into our lives without us even being aware of them.
What are these hidden perils? Certainly one is fear. When we are facing the uncertainties of illness or growing disability or loneliness or financial stress, it is natural to be worried about what is going to happen to us. But sometimes our worries overwhelm us, and we become so absorbed by them that whatever has caused them becomes all we think about. Instead of having a passing worry, we become gripped by chronic, unrelenting fear and anxiety.
Another hidden peril is often related to fear and anxiety: depression. We look back and think about all the things we have done in life, and now we are discouraged to think we will never do them again. Doctors tell us that depression is one of the most common (and most serious) problems many older people face, although it often goes undetected. Common symptoms such as fatigue, forgetfulness, and feelings of loneliness are easily explained away as effects of aging when they could be treated.
A hidden peril of a different sort is anger. No one likes to lose control over life; we all would like to remain independent as we grow older. But often that is not possible, and this is not easy for us to accept. “I’ve never seen Mother like this before,” one person said to me. “She used to be so gentle, but now she lashes out at me every time I come in her room. I know what’s wrong: she hates not being in her own home any longer and having to depend on others to take care of her although there really wasn’t any choice.” His comment could be echoed