But what if?

Rarely speaking openly about his faith,
he chose instead to live it.
His choices and priorities
giving definition to what he believed.
The very core of who he was.

Now, when his eyes stare off into the distance,
when his words no longer make sense,
it's easy to imagine that he has lost that center.
That the disease is in control,
giving shape to who he is now.

But what if,
with words gone
(and perhaps no longer needed)
his very breathing becomes his greatest prayer?

What if,
the forgotten memories,
the lost abilities, the total dependence
actually help push aside the ego self,
making room for the indwelling Spirit?

What if,
it becomes a gift to bypass the brain
(which so often leads us astray)
and move directly to the heart
with God, not the disease,
writing the ending to his life story?

What if,
the years of decline
do not feel like years to him?

What if,
when we are saddened by what he has lost
we are the ones who are missing what is still there?

Faith...
the very core of who he is.

Thanks Dad.