My Mother's Birthday

Yesterday was my mother's 85th birthday. We celebrated it last week and again this afternoon. With her dementia, every day is new. My sister in California called to wish her a happy birthday, and she said, "Thanks, and how old is your mother?" How dear!

I asked her if she wanted communion today, and she said "yes," then she began to yell towards her neighbor. She asked, "Would you like communion too?" Then she turned to me and said, "My friends here want to pray and they need this." I thought, "Wow." She gets it.

So, we began the prayer, and my mother began to weep, while her friend kept along with the prayers. Her friend said, "She needs God. She needs to be saved." At the conclusion, my mother asked her friend, "Wasn't this good? I get this all the time." Her friend said, "Thanks."

My mother started crying again and asked, "Am I saved?" I said, "Yes, you are, and so is your friend. Everyone here is saved." She wept deeply, and her friend said, "She needs to be saved. She needs to be happy." I then asked my mother, "How does it feel to be saved?" and he replied, "Wonderful."

Then I repeated the words my friend told me is helpful: I love you, Thank you, I forgive you, Please forgive me, and she said, "You have always been good to me. You don't need me to forgive you. I wish I could have done more."

She ate her dinner, going for the rainbow colored cake first, and we had a little ice cream for her birthday celebration. So, we talked, and her friend said, "Sometimes she gets sad and she needs to be tickled." So, I touched her legs and she squealed and laughed. Then we sang a few songs, and it was time for me to brave the traffic back to Boston. She and her friend sat there and talked. I guess it is all about communion after all.