Monday, April 14
Isn’t Life Wonderful?
God, my shepherd!
I don’t need a thing.
You have bedded me down in lush meadows,
you find me quiet pools to drink from.
True to your word,
you let me catch my breath
and send me in the right direction.
Even when the way goes through
Death Valley,
I’m not afraid
when you walk at my side.
Your trusty shepherd’s crook
makes me feel secure.
You serve me a six-course dinner
right in front of my enemies.
You revive my drooping head;
my cup brims with blessing.
Your beauty and love chase after me
every day of my life.
I’m back home in the house of God
for the rest of my life.
– Psalm 23 from THE MESSAGE
It was 1996. My husband Jim and I were visiting my sister in my hometown, Oneonta, Alabama. We were sitting around the breakfast table enjoying a second cup of coffee and family conversation. JoAnn looked at me, then at Jim, then turned back to me and said, “You need to take him to a neurologist. He has Parkinson’s.” She is an RN.
That was the beginning of a twenty-seven year battle with an evil, wicked disease. For several years the only symptom was a tremor in his right hand controlled with medication. In 2013 I was sure Parkinson’s dementia had come on the scene with a vengeance. Although Jim had been under the care of a neurologist, we thought it was time for a new set of eyes – a movement disorder specialist. We were off to Atlanta to Emory Neurology Clinic. With a medication change, Jim’s mind came back. Still as time passed, other symptoms appeared: balance issues, difficulty swallowing pills, struggles with eating utensils, occasional episodes of delusional thinking, more frequent falls, transitioning to a hospital bed.
Jim was a Vietnam veteran so we were able to get some in-home help – 12 hours a week to begin with in September 2022. By March 2023 he was spending 20 hours a day in bed, 16 asleep. In late May we entered a hospice program. We had VA help 40 hours a week. He could no longer support his own weight (90 pounds) as we moved him from bed to chair. He had to be fed. Soon his body was drawn into a fetal position. Yet, when he could get his mouth muscles to work to speak, his thoughts were clear.
One evening I was on the phone with our younger son in Atlanta. I asked him to pass the phone to our then 11-year-old grandson. I asked Nathaniel to take the phone in the living room to the piano and play something for Pop. At 11 it was clear he had a gift. I put the phone on speaker and laid it on Jim’s pillow. When the mini-concert was over, Jim looked up at me and smiled and said,
“Isn’t life wonderful?”
Jim won his battle over Parkinson’s September 6, 2023.
God of love, mercy and grace, I pray whatever stumbling stones may litter my path that I have the faith to count my blessings and walk in the knowledge that I am not alone. Amen.
Carol Jean Barrow