Last Wednesday was Ash Wednesday, the somber first day of Lent. You might know that Lent is the Christian season leading up to Easter, specifically the forty days, not including Sundays, that precede Easter. Traditionally, it has been seen as a time for personal reflection, fasting, and prayer.
The practice of giving something up for Lent comes from the centuries-old Christian Lenten observance of abstaining from meat, wine, oil and dairy products.
Other than fasting, some choose to give up luxuries such as alcohol, social media, animal products, or watching television. I have occasionally chosen to give up something for Lent, usually a food item that I felt “addicted to.” I noticed that when I craved this particular food, it gave me a chance to reflect on my unhealthy desire and to be reminded that the true Source of spiritual sustenance is not found in what I put in my mouth.
Others choose to add a positive habit instead, such prayer, reading the Bible, exercising, or volunteering.
A few years ago, my friend, Becky, chose to take on a positive discipline for Lent.
Becky’s mother, Gladys, has dementia, and her care was weighing heavily on Becky, as it does for all caregivers at some point. The burden of all Becky’s responsibilities were adding up, and it also felt like Gladys was no longer the same woman Becky had known all of her life. Caring for her mother was clouding the feelings of love she had for Gladys.
As a Lenten practice, Becky decided to create a gratitude journal. Instead of the usual practice of writing about all the people and things that one is thankful for, though, Becky began to write about her memories of her mother, one thought per day. It became a journal of thanks for all the ways Gladys had made an impact on Becky and on the world.
This practice transformed the relationship between Becky and her mother. She was able to remember Gladys as the person she had always been before the diagnosis, and the burden of caregiving morphed into a deeper commitment to the woman who had nurtured and cared for her as a child and beyond. Becky remembered that she loved her mother but hated the disease.
Gratitude will change a person.
I have another friend who is compiling a second collection of stories into a book entitled, Before the Diagnosis. In it, family and friends tell stories about the remarkable lives of their loved ones who are currently living with, or have succumbed to, some form of dementia. As I was writing my contribution, I was flooded with many precious memories of Harvey. “Here” is a link to her website. https://gincyheins.com/
Sometimes, conjuring memories of a loved one from before their time with dementia can be painful because it can be a realization of all that has been lost. But when we can focus, with gratitude, on their lives—their love of us, their contributions to their worlds, and the amazing lives they have led—the heaviness can lift, and our load feels lighter.
May your Lenten season be transformative in whatever way you need for it to be.