Dementia Diary: Imagine a Liturgy for Dementia

In a dream, I saw a service prepared in the chapel of the Episcopal school where Mom taught 33 years. Old colleagues had gathered and were prepared to speak tributes to her; children of grownup students that she had taught were prepared to recite a poem related to what she had given her students; my relatives were there, and my late father was watching anxiously from the side. Family and friends from her life in Valdosta GA had come up, bringing a young Min - Pin related genetically to Mom's beloved Sassy.


The altar was decorated with flowers and photos of Mom, brightly lit. A gently sloping ramp had been added, so that Mom could process alone down the aisle and up to the altar, as her unsteady gait makes steps risky.


Before the ceremony, she grew anxious about not remembering any of these people, of looking foolish. I hugged her close to assure her that we all loved her, and everyone wanted to bless her while she could still feel appreciated.

Episcopalian myself, I wondered during the dream about where this unfamiliar liturgy came from. It seemed to be modeled on the wedding ceremony, but who or what was waiting at the altar? Jesus, I suppose.

My dream left me feeling reassured, too. Mom is going alone up to a different existence, even as she continues to live. Let us accept that, and celebrate her life while we can.

[Photo: Mom's quite content to stay in bed to noon or later. I lured her up with a cup of coffee and Frank Sinatra on my phone, singing "One for My Baby"]