36. Out of the Silence

Today is 4 days from the first anniversary of Dad’s passing. I’ve committed to writing 40 stories about him as that day approaches. Forty Steady Stories.

During the last four years of Dad’s life, our family had some of the finest caregivers imaginable. Two men in particular spent virtually every day with Dad the last 3 years — Anthony and John. They were invaluable to Mom every single day, and they were a great comfort to the rest of our family during the long goodbye that dementia and TBI caused. They became much more than caregivers to me. They became friends and men for whom I have the utmost respect. Either John or Anthony was present for almost every moment we had with Dad during those last few years. They are beautiful men who have hearts of gold and an incredible skillset.

One day in June 2020, Mom, Dad, and Anthony made a lunch run to Chick-Fil-A and I met them in a parking lot for an impromptu picnic, albeit a socially-distanced one. I took a picture from my truck (see above), and it was the first time I’d seen them in a while because of Covid. It was a great day, but it was hard because Dad didn’t really talk that day. He could nod his head, but conversations were truly harder for him by this point.

But he always had a surprise or two at moments we didn’t expect.

Last December (2020), Emma & I had gone over to Mom and Dad’s condo to visit with them. John was also there, and we all sat in the small sitting room and talked. Then Mom asked if we could play the Christmas version of “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire.” I had created that game on my computer to use in small groups to show people that our perception of the nativity from art and culture doesn’t always give the us the right details according to the Bible.

So, I cranked up my computer and put the slides on the big screen. Dad was quiet the whole time we were playing, and, candidly, his head was slumped over and he seemed to be in and out of napping. He wasn’t going to talk, but he was in the room and that was enough. Everyone fielded questions from “How many magi (wise men) were there (and when did they show up on the scene)?” to “How did Mary and Joseph get to Bethlehem?”

We were about 25 minutes into the game and on question number ten which is the $25,000 question. Here’s the slide from my computer…

Dad, who seemed to be asleep and who’d sat there in complete silence for at least the last 30-45 minutes, opened his eyes and said very clearly,

“The Lord saves.”

We were all stunned. STUNNED! I turned and looked at him with my mouth wide open, and he looked back at me with a gleam in his eye that seemed to say, “That’s right. Now where’s my $25K?” In earlier times, that’s definitely what he would have said. :)

Here’s the thing: not very many people at all know the answer to that question. I’ve asked it to hundreds of people over the years in discussion group settings, and it’s rare that someone is sure about the answer. Dad didn’t even hesitate or wait for the discussion. He was that certain.

It was this beautiful moment when I realized that Dad not only had been paying attention the whole time (unbeknownst to all of us), but he knew the answer and was able to articulate it in that very special point in time. I don’t remember anything else Dad said — or even if he spoke at all — that whole day. But I’ll never forget the sound of his voice when he spoke those three words.

Of all the answers to have hidden in his crippled body and brain, that was the most important one. The truth is, the number of magi and angels, the types of animals, and all the other details pale in comparison to knowing the simple truth that Jesus’ name means “The Lord saves” in Hebrew.

As long as I live I will cherish the memory of Dad speaking out of the silence in that split second before anyone else said anything. It’s not so much that he knew the answer to a question in the game we were playing. It was so much more than that to me.

This being just a couple of weeks before he passed, it confirmed that he was still holding on to his faith and trusting that God would show up to save him.

And that’s what Christmas is all about Charlie Brown.

Merry Christmas Eve to all.