The glimmer of recognition

9:11 p.m. Today's project was to visit Steve's brother Larry, who is dying in a Tustin residential care facility, of complications of Alzheimer's. I know Steve was nervous about seeing him in a bedridden state, but I told him that we won't have another chance. Larry is receiving no further medical intervention, but is expected to survive for another few days. He is coherent and knows his loved ones, but is now lying on his bed unable to move or speak. He also hasn't eaten anything for four days. He's shutting down.

During the last year Larry has expressed his readiness to go home to be with the Lord, because the struggle has just been too hard. He also doesn't want his wife and grown sons to suffer the strain of his care. That's how Larry is--loving and devoted to his family at all times, grateful that others care so much for him, whether friends or family members.

Ironically, it was Larry who stayed home with his mom to care for their dad in his decade-long battle with Alzheimer's. Steve, the younger of the two brothers, had already moved as a single guy out to Riverside to purchase a home, and their older sisters Sharon and Linda had married and moved out years before. Steve and I were married three years and had had Kriss and Heidi before their dad died of pneumonia.

Larry reminds me just now of the older brother in "It's a Wonderful Life," (Jimmy Stewart) who sacrificed his personal dreams for the rest of his siblings to live out theirs, helping his mom. Larry sacrificed, even postponing marriage, but with a joyful heart, full of the Lord's love for his family. It's hard to recall even a cross word from Larry!

I remember how Steve's family welcomed my little son Sean when the two of us married, and the great presents Larry would buy him, and his other nephews as well. He had a good career as a finish carpenter, making elegant furniture for custom homes. He was with a family-owned company for many years, until the day they had to let him go for not remembering what to do. We were heartbroken for him and Michaele and the boys.The long trial of loss began., and continues today.

Steve and Larry are only 3 years apart, and grew up sharing a room in their modest home in Old Town Orange, California. Their dad trained them in mechanical, hands-on work, whether cars, plastic injection molding machines, or woodwork. They both are craftsmen of integrity and skill.

Larry broke down and wept a few years ago when Steve began exhibiting symptoms of Alzheimer's. And Steve has been hurting for his brother through each phase of disability and life limitation.

But there was no mistaking the glimmer of recognition in Larry's watery, faded blue eyes today when he saw Steve's face! He was happy to see him, glad that we came. We prayed for him, hugged him and kissed him goodbye. His image on that bed is one I'll not soon forget.

As I work with Steve to stay healthy, active, and to continue learning, I am provided with both encouragement and discouragement, but always loving companionship. Our marriage is for life and eternity!

As my sister-in-law Michaele demonstrates, God's plan for marriage is "until death do us part."