He didn’t stop shooting for almost an hour (except for the times I broke in). He rarely missed making a goal. For me, this was jaw-dropping. I never would have guessed he could be this good right now.
The soccer ball and Frisbee are too easy, and, he can jump the hula hoop like a jump rope. (We actually tried it out in the store.) All these newly-emerged talents – I feel like shouting from the rooftop.
What makes all this so exciting to me, of course, is the fact that Byron is six years into Alzheimer’s and fairly advanced. People don’t only lose their memories from the disease; they also lose things like depth perception, balance, coordination, strength, endurance and eventually – everything.
Byron’s neurologist said he had never seen anything like this happen with his patients before, and allowed that it could be a miracle.
I suddenly remembered a prayer I prayed last summer.
It was a plea for healing – but just a little bit. I was afraid to ask for too much, because then maybe nothing at all would happen. People with Alzheimer’s don’t get better, only worse. It took a leap of faith (of which I had little at the moment) for me to ask for anything at all.
“God, if it be your will, could you perform a miracle and help Byron get at least a little better? I need more time with him. Our grandsons need more time with their G-Daddy. Please, God.” And I cried, because in my heart I still believed it was too late for any kind of miracle, even a small one (…or did I? Because after I prayed, there seemed to be a “did-I-see-it-or-not” flicker of hope that wasn’t there before).
God answered my prayer, despite my lack of faith, through a basketball.
Grace is always a miracle and resides in the ordinary, as well as the extraordinary.
A load has been lifted from our family. God blessed us with this unexpected light in the darkness of Alzheimer’s disease. We are grateful for this time, however long it lasts. It is an gift we didn’t expect, and an opportunity we cherish.