I don’t remember all the details of our first Thanksgiving after my wife was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. That period is such a blur. I do remember that all the family gathered at Martha’s parents, and none was aware of her diagnosis except for our three children who were still in high school and college.

Martha had just turned 50 when diagnosed on September 23rd, 1997. Our world wasn’t turned upside down. It had imploded before us. Martha’s first words to me when we got home were, “I don’t want to tell anyone. Not our children. Not my parents and brothers, and certainly not our friends.”

But she was willing to talk with our good friend Lacy Harwell, a retired minister. Lacy encouraged us to visit his friend Sr. Elaine Prevallet, the retreat director with the Sisters of Loretto community. “I’ve never met another person with Elaine’s gift of discernment.”

So four weeks after the diagnosis, we drove from St. Petersburg to Kentucky. The Loretto “motherhouse” was set on a large farm of about 800 acres, which gave us a lot of room to walk and talk and vent and pray and share with Sr. Elaine. (Down the road was a provider of a different sort of spirit, the Maker’s Mark bourbon distillery, for any who cares to know).

Not far away is the Abbey of Gethsemani, the Trappist monastery that the late Thomas Merton helped make famous through his writings. Martha and I drove there one evening for its ‘Compline’ service and afterwards listened to one of the monks, a Fr. Matthew Kelty. He spoke and read with a Boston Irish brogue, quoting poetry, scripture, and stories, his ruddy cheeks accenting the glint of sadness and surprise in his eyes.

Hearing and watching him, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, his homily was deep and poignant and humorous. He is one of the most engaging Christian homilists I’ve heard. He touched Martha as well, so we decided to return the next evening.

*The late Fr. Matthew in an earlier day*

After Fr. Matthew finished that next evening, he slipped out to his left from the podium and circled behind us. I turned to Martha, but she was gone. She’d jumped up to talk with him as he was exiting. “What was that about?” I asked when she returned.

“I told him about my Alzheimer’s and asked if I could meet with him,” Martha said with a smile in her eyes and on her lips. “He said to come back tomorrow and meet him at the library door.”

So we did. They met for an hour or so, leaving me to walk the abbey grounds. When they emerged from the library, Martha was relaxed and confident, something I hadn’t seen in a long while. We decided to explore the property together before finally driving back to the Sisters of Loretto.

Sr. Elaine listened to us every day for a couple of hours as we shared our worries and concerns and the deep sense of loss. Midway through our visit, she startled us both, saying as gently as she could, “You might want to explore the difference between willfulness and willingness.” She pointed us to a little book in their library.

I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about and neither did Martha. Nor did I after scanning that book, Will and Spirit: A Contemplative Psychology (Gerald G. May). I was editor and publisher of a regional business magazine that I started. And Martha was deep into local politics, having served on the St. Petersburg City Council several years in the 1980s, and having run just the year earlier for an open seat in the Florida Legislature, which she lost by 20 votes.

If being immersed in politics and running an entrepreneurial business aren’t willful, stubborn endeavors, I don’t know what is.

As we mulled over Sr. Elaine’s comments and insights, and after a restful week’s visit we drove back home, preparing for our first of 16 Thanksgivings as we trekked through this strange and bizarre world they called Alzheimer’s. (These experiences and more can be found in my book A Path Revealed and on my website.)

More than two decades later, and six years after Martha’s death, I’m reflecting on Thanksgiving yet again, and on the responsible, life-loving adults and parents Martha’s children and mine have become, all while in the midst of this strange and bizarre, pandemic-driven election year. As I do, the voices of Sr. Elaine and Fr. Matthew still ring true and clear in my heart:

Fr. Matthew: “Suffering has something to do with salvation. We know that much. To say anything more is dangerous business.”

Sr. Elaine, quoting an ancient Eastern Orthodox verse: “Fold the wings of your mind. Place your mind in your heart. Come into the presence of God.”

Fr. Matthew to Martha after meeting with her: “You came calling on me. You are now one of us. So from now on, you are in my prayers.” Tears welled up in Martha’s eyes.

Sr. Elaine to us both: “Your main calling at this time is to trust that you belong to God and not to yourselves. And to deepen your love for God and between yourselves.”

May this Thanksgiving be meaningful and life-giving to you and your family during these weird and strange times. Our family gives thanks for each of you, and yours.

Carlen Maddux
carlen@carlenmaddux.com
www.carlenmaddux.com

PS1 If interested, this two-part video is a homily by Fr. Matthew on the absolute need to forgive—as much or more for my own mental, emotional, and physical well-being as for healthy relationships. I heard and read him enough to tag him the Monk of Forgiveness. We all know that resentment and bitterness can be irrational, completely. And we often try to gloss over such feelings. But while in the thick of Alzheimer’s, if I were going to really care for Martha I had to learn to forgive her; to forgive God; and to forgive myself for all my inadequacies. It was not easy. This video is well worth 30 minutes of your time.

PS2 If you’d like to sign up for my blog, there’s no charge; just click here.

PS3 Remember, November is National Alzheimer’s Month. One good way to give thanks this holiday is to buy a sheet of Alzheimer’s stamps, which were recently resurrected and will be available until November 2027, or until the stamps are sold out. If it’s not yet available at your local post office, you can always buy some online at the USPS store. The net proceeds go to the National Institutes of Health (NIH) for Alzheimer’s research.