Invisible Indelible Ink

The triple “I” of Alzheimer’s…. Today, I watched my father sign the checks for the business in which he and his dad and granddad have all played a part… first in furniture, now in mini-storage and real estate management. Each pay roll period, Dad still goes and signs the checks for those who are working within the family-owned and operated company with a foundation laid over 75 years ago.

Now, at 72-going-on-73-years old, my father – whose brain and body have been impacted by both Alzheimer’s and Vascular Dementia – pauses with his pen over each payroll recipient and looks at the typed out name of his business so he can remember how to sign his name: J. Lionel Todd.  The J. and the Lionel come relatively easy for each signature, but the Todd gives him a moment to remember and review how to write and spell it.

My heart aches... and struggles not to shatter.

I think I’m ‘okay’ with how God is allowing my beloved father to spend his last years on earth, and then something as simple (and yet not) as a signature has me fighting tears and swallowing hard over the lump in my throat and the one in my chest that seems to constrict my breathing.

So, I send up a prayer silently. I dig deep for the peace that only my Abba can give. And I realize that no matter what earthly ink tries to smudge across my emotions with its struggling signature… the ink that is indelible, yet invisible… is the ink of love that can never be erased from my heart.

It’s the love of my Heavenly Father and for my earthly father… it’s a love that is ever and always… without end.

Amen.