Every morning I walk in and they look at me brand new, some days they know my name and some days they ask me softly, “Now who are you?” but I smile and step beside them because love don’t need a cue, I get down on their level and God gives strength to push on through, and in this place I become a doctor when they’re hurting, a builder when they’re breaking, a fighter when the battle inside their mind starts shaking, a protector when fear rises up like a storm, a teacher when the world feels unfamiliar and they need a gentle hand to guide them home, a spiritual leader when they whisper prayers they can’t remember how to say, a cook stirring comfort into every plate, and sometimes even a truck driver steering the day in a whole new direction because that’s what love requires. And we laugh, oh we laugh, at stories they forget in seconds but the joy stays glowing like a holy ember, and they may forget the moment but the moment still remembers them, and God sees every giggle as worship, every silly dance as praise, and I don’t care how I look because dignity is something you give, not something you keep. And most of all I thank God for every patient I worked with and work with now, because they bring joy to my life, they make me laugh, they remind me that purpose is not a title but a calling, and they show me that love is stronger than memory. I pray and ask God to bless them, and bless their families, because a lot of them became my adopted family, and I pray with them like we’ve known each other forever, because in God’s eyes we have. And it brings me joy when they whisper “come here,” when they reach out for a hug, when they say “thank you” in that soft, trembling voice that feels like heaven touching earth for a moment. And when they slip toward third base, when their memories scatter like leaves in the wind, it’s hard, Lord, it’s hard to watch them fade, but I don’t stand still crying, no, I lace my shoes and run that base beside them because love don’t walk away, love runs. They’re fighting storms inside their mind, a war no one else can see, but the blood of Jesus covers them and His healing sets captives free, and every prayer we whisper is a seed of victory, and in Jesus’ name a cure will rise, I believe it deep, I believe it strong. Some days they don’t remember who they are or where they’ve been, some days they look right through me like I’m a stranger passing by, but I rejoice in every moment, every smile, every spark of recognition, because God sees how we treat the least of these and He calls that love a win. So I’ll keep being a doctor, a builder, a fighter, a protector, a teacher, a leader, a cook, a truck driver, a friend, the one who helps them smile again, the one who stands in the gap when their mind can’t hold the world together anymore. And when the journey’s over and their mind is finally free, Jesus will restore the memories dementia tried to steal from me, and until that day, Lord, use my hands, let Your love be what they see,
