The Caregivers By Barney Shepherd and Peggy Miller in honor of the respective spouses who died from Alzheimer’s and how God has given them both a second chance at love.

THE CAREGIVERS

On a beautiful knoll just east of Asheville, North Carolina, there are two grave markers facing eastward toward the rising sun.  The marker to the left, looking toward the West, reads George G. Miller and to the right another marker says Peggy J. Miller. George, 69, died August 23, 2000, a victim of Alzheimer’s.  Peggy is a primary caregiver that has been victimized by the most insidious disease known to mankind.

In a landscaped cemetery beside a Baptist church just South of Philadelphia, Mississippi there are also two grave sights; the marker on the left says Barney B. Shepherd and the one on the right says Naoma M. Shepherd.  Naoma, 72, died August 12, 2001, also a victim of Alzheimer’s.  Barney is a primary caregiver and he, like Peggy, has also been victimized by this same disease.

What am I doing here; have I completely lost my mind?

I cannot believe, at my age, I am standing atop the most scenic and beautiful place in the world holding hands with such a lovely lady as she mourns her dead husband.  It is apparent she still loves him.

It is also apparent that I still love my wife;  I even told the lady so, yet why are we so engrossed with each other?

I'll bet she comes here quite often to reminisce about the good times in her marriage as I sometimes do in mine;  that is, until the pain and heartaches squeeze them out, forcing a return to a cold and lonely house, now devoid of a love that once was.

We are standing here, holding hands wondering what life has in store for us; hoping that we were destined to meet and bring a semblance of happiness to each other.

Was our meeting a miracle of love or was it an over due longing for normalcy?

It apparently all started one Friday night when my brother invited me to Old Fort, North Carolina to hear some country music as we had done for several years when I paid him a visit.

For the past 15 years local and semi-professional mountain music bands within a radius of well over 100 miles from Old Fort, North Carolina, has taken center stage and literally played their hearts out every Friday night from 7 to 11 p.m.   

One should get there early as these bands begin to mill around with their fiddles, guitars, banjos and mandolins well before 6 p.m. In the filling stations that close early and several parking lots alongside the building that will hold about 300 people, the main thoroughfare of Old Fort begins to gear up for the treat of all treats when it comes to old time mountain music and the best bluegrass anywhere in the whole wide world.

One of my favorite bands is Alvin Wilson and the Happy Valley Boys, especially their rendintion of “Walk Softly.”

Inside, just before 7 p.m., they tell you, "There is no charge for this performance, but for you folks that are here for the first time there is no smoking in the building, no drinking and no drunks. You got that?"

In the meantime a few of the dancers, especially the lady cloggers were busily checking the taps on their shoes preparing to clog until their panty hose wilts.

Each band gets about 30 minutes on stage and in the meantime the other bands are busy entertaining the overflow crowd in the parking lots outside.

That particular Friday night they led off with "Cripple Creek" and that was the first time I ever laid eyes on Peggy Jean Miller.   .

And what a treat it was!

This 67-year-old lady clogger captured the hearts of every last person in the overflow crowd of standing room only.  She was terrific. The movement of her lithe and shapely body was sensuous and sexy as she was able to tap to every bluegrass musical beat. Peggy Miller and the music became a unified entity of perfection.  A thing of beauty!

I was fascinated with this pretty lady who apparently knew everyone, greeting people with a funny story, clogging the aisles and hawking "popcorn, peanuts, crackerjacks and tapes for five dollars each" all the while with a smile that would break an old man's heart.  She clogged for four solid hours; resting only when someone sang an old religious hymn or when she danced a two-step with her many friends when the band played the slower music and songs.

I thoroughly enjoyed the entire show.  The music was wonderful but I could not take my eyes off Peggy Miller.  She smiled at me and I stammered something like, "If you continue to dance like that you will easily live to be a hundred years old."

As my brother Ralph and I left Old Fort I looked at him and said, "I wonder if the man she was seated next to was her husband!"

"Forget it litttle brother, you would never keep up with that lady!" He replied.

Our family reunion was about two weeks away and I couldn't get the clogging lady out of my mind.  Ralph even told my family that I had seen a lady that I wanted to take back to
Mississippi with me.

I love bluegrass music, and for week after week, every time I heard a good clogging tune I thought of the beautiful lady that danced her heart out that Friday night in July at Old Fort, NC.

The middle of September I got a phone call from my sister-in-law Helen, Ralph's wife.

"Barney, this is Helen.  Ralph and I went to Old Fort last night and guess what; the clogging lady that you liked so much came in and sat right next to Ralph and I.  Her name is Peggy Miller and she is 67 years old, and her husband died about two years ago. After I explained your fascination with her she gave me her telephone number and asked me to give it to you so that you could call her.  The number is ........"

I called the number and a voice said "The number you are calling has been disconnecterd."  I hung up the phone and thought, "Oh well, you can't win them all" and forgot the whole thing.

A few days later Helen was on the phone again.  "Barney, you said you would call Peggy Miller; now she tells me she hasn't heard from you. What gives?"

"I did call, the number has been disconnected," I replied, "Did you give me the right number?"

She then gave me the correct phone number.

A few minutes later I was talking to Peggy Jean Miller!

Within the first five minutes of our phone conversation, Barney Shepherd and Peggy Miller knew they were soulmates; that their lives would not and could not ever be the
same again. We both knew it was inevitatible that, somehow or other, we meet. As primary caregivers of Naoma Shepherd and George Miller we both recognized that when circumstances beyond our control predetermines our fate it is best that we, as mere human beings, be willing to trust in a power far greater than ourselves. 

Thus we both instinctively turned to our Christian faith.  A faith that sustained each of us as we watched the ravages of dissipation of a disease known as Alzheimer’s utterly and completely destroy the lives of the very persons we loved so very, very much.  As Christians, Peggy and I know that by ourselves, we could not have endured the tortuous deterioration of this disease as it slowly, year after year, drained the mind, the body, the heart and the spirit of our lifelong mates and companions.

The mutual experiences we were forced to endure as primary caregivers we were now able to share with each other.  Time had given us the opportunity to somewhat dull the habitual pain and heartache so that we could see that true love and sacrifice always manifest itself with eternal spiritual blessings that we can only share with our own brand of soul mates.  These experiences were vital in developing an immediate trust, understanding and faith in each other.

As a primary caregiver one cannot walk away from the funeral of a loved one and resume any semblance of normalcy.  We have been victimized.  Let me say that again; we have
been victimized by this insidious disease known as Alzheimer’s!

Subsequent phone conversations led to a natural tendency for Peggy and I to get to know each other personally and it was at her suggestion that I visit Ralph and Helen in Marion, NC, just East of Asheville.

I arrived at my brother's home on a Monday afternoon.  Helen cooked a delicious dinner and  asked Peggy to eat with us.  The evening was perfect.

On Tuesday, Peggy gave me the grand tour of Asheville, many of her friends, her home and the homes of her two sons. What made my day, was her invitation that I visit her husband's gravesight.  No one in my lifetime, has ever paid me a higher compliment.

On Wednesday, Ralph, Helen, Peggy and I visited with some of my relatives in West Jefferson, NC.  We spent the night at a beautiful mountain cabin in Fleetwood complements of Ralph's daughter Monica.

Thursday Peggy and I went to Erwin, Tennessee, where Peggy had an opportunity and an obligation to clog.  Again she danced her heart out.

Friday was Peggy's special night.  Helen, Ralph and I felt like we were the guest of honor
when Peggy reserved our seats, front and center, for yet another standing room only performance.  Again she appeared to be the star of the entire four-hour show and I felt
that squiring the bell of the ball was something that I could adapt to very easily.

Saturday we went to dinner at a restaurant featuring Peggy's friends, Alvin Wilson and the Happy Valley Boys.  We closed the place. Peggy clogged every number her friends played!

Sunday I drove home to Mississippi.

It was a week that was an adventure that two old primary caregivers had no idea they
would experience just a few months earlier and God only knows how this adventure will ultimately turn out.  We got to know each other very well and we both liked what we found.  We either correspond or call each other several times each week and the relationship is growing with each contact.

Separately, and without knowing one another, we as primary caregivers of our mates, have paid our dues if two people in this old world ever did; yet we became the survivors and the victims of the most terrible disease that a marriage can possibly face.  Over too many years we watched the persons we loved very deeply slip into death the slowest way that is humanly possible.  We now know how many times a heart can be broken, and we now know when death does come how wonderfully welcome it can be.  Peggy and I stayed the course, we fought the good fight. Each of us visited the nursing home two to three times each day, every day for three long years.  Prior to the nursing home our lives were literally a series of nightmares.

Our grief and the nightmares are just now beginning to turn into beautiful memories of a
time that was, and the heartaches are now beginning to mend.

It was inevitable that we meet.  We survived and we are alive. Thank God.

What will Peggy and I do with the rest of our lives?  Have we been victimized in our experiences over these too many long years until we are afraid to really care for someone
else again?

Love is a wonderful and beautiful sharing but it always comes with risks that only the bravest of the brave dare enter and enjoy, especially at our age.

Peggy and I will simply rely upon our Christian faith.