Three years ago, I officiated a
service for a woman who had died and I watched her heartbroken husband, who was suffering
with dementia, trying to make any sense of what was going on. He saw his family in sadness, he knew we were
at a funeral home. It was apparent that
his mind was in disarray, like a jigsaw puzzle, and he struggled to make those
pieces fit. The look in his saddened,
lost eyes broke my heart. I hugged him
at the end and he looked at me as if to say “who the hell are you”. I loved him instantly.
I received a call recently that “Peter”
had died and was asked once again to join his family in remembering their Dad
and Grandpa. One night we sat around the
kitchen table planning his service and the subject of his visitation and open
casket came up. His family shared with
me that his “Sally” would be in his casket with him and would be laid to rest with
him. I inquired as to who Sally was and
they shared this story with me:
2 years ago, they arrived at the
care facility to find a doll cuddled in with Dad. He had his arm around her and was sleeping in
his chair. They inquired of the staff if
they had given the doll to their Dad; the staff had assumed it was his family that
had done so. He named her Sally and from
the moment she arrived in his life she became his “baby”. She went everywhere with him. She was beside him for meals. She’d accompany him on his many strolls
around the care facility. She slept with
him; his arm around her. He was most
concerned for her well-being. He would
ask her if she was hungry. He would ask
her if she was thirsty. Sally became his
purpose and in his rapidly shrinking world, she became his comfort and
security. I was so moved by the story
because within that story, it told a story of a man’s instinctive ability to
love and protect his children; even when his mind had been plagued with illness, or in other words, no matter what! He
somehow knew it was his job to protect and nurture his baby. When I paid my respects to “Peter", my heart
filled with joy when I saw Sally safely tucked in his arms. “Peter” keeping her safe; and she keeping him
safe. With his family’s permission I shared “Peter's” and Sally’s story. He was lover and protector of his family and
we celebrated that. To this day, we still don't know where Sally came from.