This weekend is our annual Women’s Retreat. For the past 5 years, I’ve had the opportunity to help plan the Retreat, which is very close to my heart because this group of women have held me up, held me accountable, and lifted me out of many difficult times. Helping with this event that has spiritual significance and, and some cases, life-changing impacts is an opportunity to give back to them…even if only in a small way.In early 2017, I had been working with Mitzi for a few months. I had already realized that her story—with her strong faith, her gift of acceptance of her diagnosis, and the courageous way she was willing to live outside the maze of walls Alzheimer’s likes to try and build to keep someone isolated were so powerfully inspiring to me…and I knew it would be to others. I asked the group planning the theme if I could ask Mitzi if she would be willing to share her story at the Retreat that year. There was a little apprehension at how it would work, but I assured everyone that I could record her on camera and she could give her testimony that way.I was not sure how Mitzi would react to me asking her. And I was really not sure if her husband and family would allow me to record her and show the video in front of a large group of women. Mitzi could not have been more thrilled to be asked. And her husband said that he fully supported whatever she wanted to do. So we started recording what it was like for her to go through the season she was in and how Alzheimer’s was affecting her life. She was so candid and thoughtful in her responses. She never backed away from any of my questions and was so very grateful to be asked what this was like for her on such an in-depth and accepting level.When we went to the Retreat, her sister, her sister’s mother-in-law, Mitzi, and I all wore vibrant purple shirts. Mitzi got to watch herself on the screen. The room full of other women, who walked into the Retreat carrying their own burdens and heavy things, also watched the story of how Mitzi’s life at 56 was so very different than she had ever imagined it would be. There were many tears. And, just like me, this room full of women were so inspired by her. They rallied around her, inundated her with hugs, and showed her an unconditional love that I truly believe made Mitzi feel like somewhat of a celebrity. In any event, more than anything, it had given her a great purpose, and to Mitzi, having an opportunity to help people was so vital to making her feel like a whole person. She would have no idea at the time the far-reaching effects she would have on many lives. Multiple women who were struggling with their own questions of their self-proclaimed diminishing mental capacities were even inspired to go for testing after the Retreat. Mitzi came back with me in 2018, and again, even though she was noticeably less independent, everyone warmly accepted her with open arms. By 2019, she had come with me to planning meetings, but her decline made it too difficult for me to take her and still do the tasks I needed to do to help with the Retreat. She stayed home, but, I kept reiterating that her 30th anniversary, which was at the same time, was far more important. I still felt guilty I couldn’t manage to bring her. And I missed my sidekick. The worst part was that I know in my heart she knew, deep down, I didn’t take her because it had gotten too difficult. I hated knowing that she knew that.This year, I showed up in my standard uniform of my Moving Forward for Mitzi shirt, my purple jacket, and even brought along her water bottle…just because. When I left home the day of the Retreat, I passed by a tree in my neighborhood that had lost all of its leaves. It looked like the bare side of the tree in the logo our friend created for us. As I slowed down to go over a speed bump, a pop of color caught my eyes in the tree. There, almost as if posing, was a vibrant red cardinal perched in the tree, happy to wait for me to compose myself before taking a picture. I absolutely took it that the perfect sign had appeared to remind me of what a gift that whole experience was for her (and me), and that it was the beginning of a powerful opportunity for her to shine in a season of this disease that normally seeks to diminish, dull, and destroy one’s purpose…????
