Love Conquers Pain

Mom’s dementia sometimes causes her to fixate on a topic, repeating a question or comment or feeling. That is especially troubling when the object is pain. She doesn’t understand it: “Why does my leg hurt?” Sometimes she cries. And then, sometimes, so do I, because I can’t make it better.

Sometimes during the day, mom’s needs, actual and perceived, her sometimes rambling talks – again and again, over and over – disturb my peace. I try to remember where her mind now is, often as a young child, and I must treat her and accept her as such. It is at bed time however, that mom’s relationship with me comes back into critical focus. After I gently lift her onto the bed, aware of the discomfort, and sometimes pain, in her legs, she always tells me: “Thank you.” And then her eyes wander with thought, as she remembers not this past day, but days long ago. Sometimes she comments on her dad, sometimes her sisters or brothers. And while she often forgets the day, the year, or her age, it seems at bedtime that she sadly remembers her dear family: “But they’re all gone.” The she looks at me, smiles, and never fails to say: “You know that I love you.”

Life may be hard for mom, it may be painful, it may be sad. But she remembers one thing, even if nothing else: she knows she loves me, and knows I love her. And she is content with not knowing anything else. Love is all she needs. And she smiles at me. And at that moment, all MY pains and anxieties pass, and it is all I need also.

I know that God feels that way about me too, and me about Him. Often I too am in pain, focused on earthly matters in a non-stop re-thinking of the “important” matters of my life – not unlike mom’s dementia-driven repetitions. So many things trouble me – as things trouble her. There is so much to worry about. So much, it seems, that I have to do.

But I am blessed, so very blessed. There are times, perhaps not nearly enough, but there ARE times where I let God gently lift me to a place of rest – just as I do to my mom each night. I focus on him, often in front of me in the Blessed Sacrament, and let Him help calm all my anxieties, all my thoughts of what I must do. And then I know, I KNOW, that He will be always there to help me with all the most important things, all the things that REALLY matter. He will help me. I don’t have to do them all. And then I can calm my thoughts, and see His. And I can say from my heart as mom does: “You know, I love You.” And in my heart, in every part of my being, I know: He loves me too.

It is all I need.

Above all hold unfailing your love for one another, since love covers a multitude of sins. 1Pt 4:08