Today, like pretty much every day, I am thanking God for my dad and for the gift of his presence in my life.
On sunny afternoons, my dad taught me how to field ground balls and throw a frisbee.
In a steamy bathroom, he taught me how to shave—and how to stop the bleeding!
In his 58-year marriage to my mother, he taught me how to love, respect, and cherish a woman (and how to be loved, respected, and cherished BY a woman).
With his quick and sharp wit, he taught me about the sacramental nature of laughter and the value of discerning the comedic in everyday life.
In some of our less successful outings at the Pinewood Derby, he taught me that losing graciously is every bit as important as winning graciously.
As a man of deep faith, he taught me about Jesus and his saving grace.
As an ordained pastor in the United Methodist tradition, he taught me what it means to serve the church with integrity and vision.
Through his discipleship, he taught me about the urgency of making certain that there is consistency between the way in which I worship and the way in which I live.
Currently, my dad is struggling with Alzheimer’s Disease. Truth be told, it hasn’t actually been diagnosed as Alzheimer’s Disease yet, but you probably know how that goes. It is still so mysterious a disease that sometimes a precise diagnosis cannot be rendered until later on in the journey. Suffice it to say that my dad’s condition, if it is not Alzheimer’s Disease, certainly looks and acts like it.
My dad’s strong memory has always been one of his most impressive resources—up until now, that is. These days, he struggles mightily in that department. It is becoming more and more difficult for him to remain focused during sustained conversations. He is gun-shy about asking questions around the dinner table, fearing that he has perhaps already asked the question once or twice before. Those of you who have been through this kind of thing probably understand the realities that I am describing.
It has been a painful experience for Dad and Mom and our family. As one might expect, however, Dad and Mom are facing the challenge with courage, grace, and a beautifully vibrant sense of humor. They are grateful to have one another. They are also grateful for their relationship with a Savior whose grace is sufficient both in seasons of health and seasons of struggle.
As an amateur songwriter, I tend to unpack my emotional baggage through the creative process. Some time ago, I wrote a song about my dad’s condition. I recorded the song with my wife, Tara, and gave it to my dad as a gift.
He liked it.
I’d like to share the lyrics of the song with any of you who are interested in reading them. The song is called, “Remember.” If you would like to hear Tara singing the song, it can be found here (paste the link into your address bar): http://www.chcumc.com/weblog/eric/wp-content/uploads/remember-mix2.mp3
Here are the song’s lyrics:
What makes a man a man? Is it his ability to remember things?
Or is it the desire to do a thing in the first place?
I’m thinking of a man whose memory fails him all too frequently.
I refuse to think he’s less of a man than he used to be.The memory is just one portion of the person one becomes
And when it fails it doesn’t mean that one’s a failure.
I’ll hold your memories as though they were sacramental bread.
And we will break that bread with reverence and frequency.Chorus: And I’ll remember for you when you forget.
Your noble legacy demands nothing less.
Don’t think me burdened by this sign of respect.
It’s an honor to remember for you when you forget.I see you in the back yard teaching both your boys how to throw a ball.
I see you in the living room reading to your daughter.
Your fiftieth anniversary looking at your wife like you did fifty years ago.
I see you in a preacher’s robe teaching us all ‘bout the things of God.(bridge) With the pure water of your outpoured life
You have filled five hundred thousand cups.
We have sipped from the wellspring of your decency.
You’re who we want to be when we grow up.
Thanks for allowing me to share a portion of my dad with you.
[audio:remember-mix2.mp3]
Eric- This Alzheimer’s thing is, indeed, devistating and complex. Having walked with Violet as her primary caregiver, I know the value of faith and of a good sense of humor. Oh, the stories…..they have turned to gold in my mind. They are a rich inheritance. The early stages were the most painful for her–the times when she KNEW she was not functioning and felt ebarrasment and shame. Later on, it was less painful for her but more for us–when she forgot who we were. I acquired my favorite nick-name in the later stages of Violet’s illness. She called me a “Flaming Red-headed Harlot.” You just gotta laugh sometimes. Keep up the remembering—as life becomes fragmented, re membering is what we all need.
Thanks Eric for being brave enough to discuss something I know is absolutely dear and very near to your big heart.
I love your dad for all that he is, and was to so many people including myself.
His memory lives in all that know and love him!!!! Happy Father’s Day to him
tell him so, please!
Barb
Robyn and I count ourselves among the many people blessed to have been touched by God’s grace through your dad. We will share the song together later, when the wee McIlwains are in bed, and will be offering praises and prayers for the wonderful ministry your parents so beautifully incarnate.
Thanks for offering the gift of vulnerability as well as wisdom, brother. It’s a gift infrequently seen in the world of 2007.
Sounds like you have an awesome dad! What a great testimony you have offered about him. Thoughts and prayers will be with your dad and your family.
The effects of Alzheimer’s are so devastating. But once again, Eric, you find the good in things that are so difficult for many of us to see. The lyrics to that song are so wonderful and filled with so much love. As I listened to Tara sing, tears streamed down my cheeks as some bittereness regarding my mother’s estate was washed away. Your dad has been a small blessing in my life and the few times that I have spent with him in conversation, I am thankful. I hope he had a great Father’s Day!
Awesome! So many I have taken for granted the day, and this year is something entirely different. Thanks for sharing and reminding us all of the importance of the day, and our ability to remember our dads.
Eric & Tara,
Your song captured your Dad so well. I can close my eyes and see his exuberant smiling greeting when he was here at CUMC on Sunday nights, most always with a memory of me singing to him and your mom. His memories helped me with mine. I will keep him, your Mom, and you in my prayers.
Eric,
Your dad may be losing some of his memory, but he keeps the big hearted side. He might not remember who I am, but he remembers to give me a big hug every time I see him. Now that’s a good memory!!