"It's a blessing"

As you get older and your circle of friends grows, you inevitably get more invitations … to visitations. That door opens wider and more frequently when you embrace a group of people with a fatal disease like Alzheimer's.

I attended the visitation yesterday for a sweet gentleman who passed away this week. I remember his smile at the support group meetings when he and his wife, his adoring and devoted caregiver, attended. When the caregivers got together separately, she'd describe the growing challenges, though never complained. Earlier in March, she grabbed our hearts as she wept and described how she had to place him in a care facility because she couldn't give him all the care he required as his disease progressed. Her children saw the toll it was taking on her and reassured her to not feel guilty.

"It was the hardest thing I've ever done," she confessed amid the tears. We listened and hugged her in hopes of giving her the strength to face the greatest challenge of not having him at home with her everyday, the man she had pledged to love, honor and cherish five decades ago.

She had not stepped away from nor forgotten that vow. She had embraced it with greater love and commitment to cherish both of their lives, to give him the 24-7 care he now needed against that relentless, brutal disease, and maintain her own health in the process. And there's not a selfish thing about that when it comes to Alzheimer's. I've watched first-hand it claim the life of one caregiver, and I never want to see that again. No family should have to experience that.

At the visitation, I arrived early and walked into the spacious sanctuary where the family organized itself into an official line, three generations alongside the open casket. When the wife saw me, she smiled and opened her arms to hug me so tight as I expressed my sympathy.

The three words she said with great love and conviction said it all:

"It's a blessing."

Her children echoed that sentiment, that he didn't have to suffer anymore, that they didn't have to watch him deteriorate further, that the faith he had instilled in them was helping carry them through this loss.

Is it inappropriate to say "It's a blessing" when someone passes away after a long illness or a sudden devastating accident? You never know just how fragile the family's emotions are, and you certainly don't want to cause them more grief when your heart has been breaking for them. As an outsider, it's easy to say, "It's a blessing." It's not your spouse, dad or grandpa. Life's experiences have taught me that you probably should keep that thought to yourself. It's best for the family to say that aloud for themselves on their own terms.

I made no apologies as I nodded when she said, "It's a blessing." They were all at peace, and I believe that makes the grief a little more tolerable, though never easy.

Alzheimer's had ravaged this gentle husband, father, grandfather and friend, and was moving on to another family ...

And tomorrow I have another visitation …