“(Make) supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings for everyone… so that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all goodness and dignity” (1 Tim. 2:1-2).

Vulnerability pricks when one we know has Alzheimer’s Disease. We shy at first hint of a fragile brain. Unnerved, we quake at our mental lapses. We cannot predict another’s. What worked in last Sunday’s conversation may not today.

To keep a church a welcoming place, members sustain personal dignity by finding active, comforting ways to relate to those enduring AZ. When the Rev. Carl Kemper could attend United Church of Christ, First Congregational in Crete, he appreciated greetings from many even without knowing names. Some invited Carl to sit with them so Betty could play bells and sing in choir. In early stages, chatting without pressuring question or expectation, as if he understood fully, offered Carl a message of respect.

AZ is about our remembering who a person was and whose he is. AZ is about our forgetting what is right with him. Become his memory. Replay his life’s relevance. Focus on what he can do and enjoy. Keep talk simple. Introduce yourself, telling your relationship. Use name tags. Say “Tell me more” during memory talk. Ask yes/no questions. Give time to answer. Talk about real things. Using the same words, repeat sentences when necessary. Gently distract during frustration. Avoid correcting, arguing, or attempting to reason. Provide appropriate touch.

Then embrace the curious relief you feel when your friend releases you by no longer knowing you. Surprisingly, this also frees us for a new relationship.

Talk becomes a unique setting aside of ourselves to engage in a new listening and joining in whatever is the focus of the moment. In this living moment, tone of voice communicates. During these visits that require greatness of spirit, we accept another without reservation. We hope that somehow he knows we acknowledge the inner nature, which no disease can destroy.

Writing for the Disabilities Ministries Traveling Exhibit about their AZ journey, Betty Kemper drew us closer to appreciating spousal grief. “Like an onion, one layer of memory at a time peels away. I have lost a companion, lover, and helpmate of 55 years.”

With the pace of Carl’s AZ accelerating, Betty teaches us further about partner support. “The silence (of others) is the hardest thing – worse than a physical death. People know how to act then. They bring casseroles and love,” she said.

Ask spouses how things are. As word spread that Carl had moved into the AZ unit, Betty welcomed letters from friends in previous churches. Let them know by note or phone call that they remain on your prayer list. Showing concern “I’m sorry this has happened” or “I’m praying for you and your mate” helps throughout the chaos. With AZ, we have little access to someone’s “inner nature (that) is being renewed day by day” (2 Corinthians 4:16). With her husband unable to attend a class reunion, Betty asked what his prayer would be for his classmates. From somewhere inside him, Carl answered, “To trust in God so they can face the difficult times in life.” – db

(For additional information about AZ, see www.mayohealth.org.)

This Reading the Signs column is published with the permission of Betty Kemper and with the blessing of the Nebraska Conference.