“A friend is a friend … even If they don’t know who they are …”
A few years back, I ran into Kim, the daughter of Jeannie, who was an old friend of mine. We had raised our kids together and then lost contact. When I reconnected with Kim, I told her to make sure that her mother contacted me so we could talk about old times. I never heard back from Kim, so I just assumed that Jeannie wasn’t interested.
Well, I am a big Facebooker and Kim’s cousin contacted me on my timeline. I found out that the reason I hadn’t heard from Jeannie was because she was in the throes of Alzheimer’s disease and didn’t know anyone.
Being as stubborn as a mule, I decided to say a deep prayer, try to dress as close to how I looked years ago and go to the nursing home. Last time I saw Jeannie, she was a petite size-4 blond. The older woman pointed out to me by the staff looked nothing like my friend. I took a deep breath and headed towards her wheelchair. I called her name. She looked up and gasped and grabbed my hands. She covered them with kisses and started to cry and say my name.
As my schedule permits, I go and visit her, and she lifts my spirit, and I try to put a smile on her face. Alzheimer’s or not, my friend recognizes me, and I am a better, more thankful person each time I visit her.
Because … except for the Grace of God … there go I.