The Most Important Team

My mother faced a losing game the moment she was forced into the arena of Alzheimer’s disease.  It was a literal death match, and the constantly-ticking clock showed no mercy.

Though Mom battled alone at first, a team formed in her name.  My dad, my sisters, and I surrounded her, doing our best to provide protection against an adversary that always kept us on the defense, ceaselessly driving my mother into enemy territory.  Relatives and friends added their support from the sidelines and subbed in when we needed rest.  Mom’s doctors and medication tried coaching her, but they came and went as the playbook became less and less applicable.

Mom fought hard, and we never wanted to give up. But the opposition was too large, too relentless, too unstoppable.  We were never able to go on the offence, though we tried, even as the disease ran our emotions ragged.  Gaining ground was really a futile hope on our part because my mother could never “sub out” like the rest of us.  Eventually the competition wore her down. 

Alzheimer’s took everything from her.  No tie game, no consolation prize.  It demanded complete victory.

My mom’s team understands devastation, but we continue to grow through new members and a new generation to wear her jersey.  And we found ourselves in shape to join another kind of arena: one comprised of many other teams like ours who have faced the disease and understand the importance of the fight.  These are teams built on the spirits of loved ones, and they are not easily defeated. 

Real strength is measured by the determination of our combined team.  Unwavering power emerges from the drive to face this impossible situation and the willingness to stand together when the odds seem unbearable.