“How long, O Lord” is all Teckla could get out before her tears made it impossible to read. She grabbed some Kleenex and started reading Psalm 13 again:
How long O Lord? Wilt Thou forget me forever? How long will Thou hide Thy face from me? How long shall I take counsel in my soul, having sorrow in my heart all the day?
Tears fell onto her Bible. I knew her soul had made David’s words her own. Her dementia has been slowly getting worse. But the question “how long” is a terrible one to ask because dementia can continue for years.
The gentle cry of her heart was so pure and untainted with self-pity or accusation that I know all of heaven heard her voice. Her prayer frightened me because only death ends dementia. I have never heard of God stopping or reversing dementia. I pray anyway, sowing my mustard seed of faith, probably with more fear than faith.
When I was a boy camping with my family at Cape Perpetua, we often spent days on the beach. Mom would lean against a rock reading a book or crocheting and my brothers and I would build a wall to protect Mom from the rising tide. We dug moats and built walls of stones, sand, and driftwood. We could never really see the tide come in. But as each wave came a little further up the beach, the walls slumped, the driftwood floated away and soon everything was erased except for a few stones.
Teckla’s memories are washing away, and I am helpless. She feels them slipping away but can’t stop them. Before going to see people, she says their names to herself over and over. It is not just memories that dissolve but the relationships built on memories of shared joy and grief. Dementia brings terrible loneliness. The whole tapestry of life built on memories and friendship unravels.
I grieve for her sadness and for my own loss. From the day of our wedding, we have always been “Mark and Teckla” working together to serve God and others. Our hearts and labors have been so united and melted together in God’s Spirit that losing Teckla is like losing myself. I don’t know who I am without her. As she fades, I fade.
Like so many of David’s raw laments, Psalm 13 has a turning point. After bringing his complaint to God, David declares:
But I have trusted in Thy lovingkindness; my heart shall rejoice in Thy salvation, I will sing to the Lord because He has dealt bountifully with me.
Teckla read these words with conviction. She quietly and heroically defied despair. The question of “how long” still hangs in the air or echoes down the streets of heaven. Teckla is much more comfortable with the tension between contradictory ideas and experiences: a God who has hidden his face and yet in every way has dealt bountifully with us. Whatever memories she has lost, she is remembered by God.
