Let it be known:
Bill had a great last laugh …… even if it was at my expense. My brother Bill
died on August 13th from a fall, or a stroke, or both, but several
weeks before that, he let out a carefree, unrestrained, straight from the soul
laugh that did him and all of us good.
Brother George and
Geri and Martha and I went over to visit Bill at the assisted living home where
he had been since dementia and physical problems began taking priority in
Bill’s life. The staff told us that they had just reworked the courtyard patio,
so we went outside and took our place on a patio chair. We began talking old
times with Bill. Even as the dementia progressed, Bill held on to facts and
figures and memories of the past better than any of the rest of us. Want to
know when some relative died, or when their birthday was? You’re best bet to
get the right answer was to ask Bill.
Have a question about school or a vacation experience from 50 or 60
years ago? Ask Bill.
Still, the dementia
was relentless, gnawing away at the realities of the present, making Bill’s
smiles fewer and further between. There was a somber, far away look in Bill’s
eyes that summer evening as we sat with him on the patio.
That’s when I
happened to glance down at my pants. There on my lap was a big white bird
splotch! I quickly went into feigned catastrophe mode: “I’ve been hit!” “Some
bird has got me!” “Quick, a napkin, a Kleenex, a towel!” My trusty partners
sprang into motion looking for something to dab up the bird poop. Bill tuned in
and began to smile.
But it wasn’t
done. Just as I reached for the scavenged Kleenex, another plop! This time, the
bird dew landed on my shirt sleeve!
This is too much
for Bill. Whatever dark cloud had been hovering over his consciousness quickly
lifted. Bill let out a genuine happy, “Ha!!!” It was the Bill of old present
among us. It was a real treat! Pretty funny that it took a dive bomber bird to
break through the evil spell upon him. What a joy it was to see.
Now that Bill has
transitioned to God’s place, where there is no such thing as dementia, I keep
thinking about those bird splotches and Bill’s last laugh. It doesn’t take much
pondering of the story of Jesus and the promises of scripture to get God’s
picture. Like a splotch on my pants, God’s love and promises land on me, not to
be ignored. And as I realize I’ve been hit, I can’t help but chuckle, and I
can’t keep from looking up and hearing Bill’s “Ha!”
