It seemed an unlikely match-a minister and a bartender. But Rev. Norman Helm and Gretchen fell in love and became man and wife in 1981. They lived a happy life together until the day Norm was hit by a car while crossing the street in Westborough, Massachusetts, on December 1, 1989. He suffered a traumatic brain injury that also left him virtually deaf. In this memoir, Gretchen tells the honest and personal story of how they have dealt with Norm's traumatic brain injury, the loss of his profession as a senior pastor, his profound deafness, and his recent diagnosis of dementia. From the sad to the lighthearted, she shares anecdotes from their life together-how they have coped with the many challenges placed in their path and how their experiences have made them stronger. A testimony of hope for a bright future, The Birds Will Sing Again demonstrates how sharing painful experiences can help ease the burden of living with disabilities and shows the power of celebrating the joys of each day.
The Birds Will Sing Again
Facing Life's Challenges TogetherBy Gretchen HelmiUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2011 Dr. Gretchen Helm
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4620-3056-9Contents
Introduction.....................................................xi1 The Accident...................................................12 We Honor Our Heroes............................................93 Loss...........................................................154 Home, Not So Sweet Home........................................215 The Roller Coaster Called Dementia.............................296 Changes........................................................337 Giving Care....................................................418 Conversations with Myself......................................479 Hello, Again...................................................5110 Learning to Adjust............................................5511 Can You Hear Me Now?..........................................5912 Acceptance....................................................6513 Impatience, Anger, Frustration, and Guilt.....................6914 Hope..........................................................7115 Our Waterfall.................................................7516 Give Me a Break...............................................7917 The Decision..................................................8118 Norm's Ministry: The Final Chapter............................8719 A New Day for Us Both.........................................9120 The Gift......................................................97Bibliography.....................................................105About the Author.................................................107
Chapter One
The Accident
December 1, 1989. I sat in our sunroom, waiting for Norm to join me for breakfast. He was upstairs ironing his jeans, and when I asked him why, he replied, "Well, if the maid won't do it, I guess I have to." Finally he joined me, looking very dapper. Of course, he looked good; he had on a pair of jeans ironed with a perfect crease. He would have made a great cop. Cops always look so ... ironed. We had a leisurely breakfast and decided to spend some time together before we started our day. The sun was streaming into the sunroom on a very cold but beautiful December day. It was Norm's day off, but he had agreed to do a funeral that afternoon. First, he had to go to the church office to prepare, and I had to do some errands for the annual fair that would take place the next day. My car was at the mechanic, so Norm offered to let me use his. It was a short walk from our house to his office, so I took Norm up on his offer. Norm left to get a haircut and then go to his office.
When I was done shopping, I headed home, hoping to meet Norm for lunch. I saw that the traffic was being diverted, and there was a fire truck washing something down in the street, so I took another route home. When I arrived home, I saw a cloud of dust coming from the rear of our house, which was behind the parking lot of the high school. It was peculiar because it wasn't even a slightly windy day. I walked into the house and called for Norm. There was no answer. Thinking that he might still be at the church, I called the church office. Mrs. Ridley answered, and when I asked if Norm was there, she said, "Now, don't get worried." I knew then that something had happened to my husband. She explained that while crossing the street, Norm had been hit by a car. Fortunately, the medevac helicopter was nearby; the EMTs landed in the school parking lot to transport Norm to UMass Memorial Medical Center trauma unit. That explained the dust I'd seen. It was the helicopter taking off.
I heard later that a young woman with very little driving experience had been driving down Main Street and wasn't aware that she needed to yield to anyone in a crosswalk. Another version was that a delivery truck had stopped, and the truck driver motioned Norm to keep crossing the street. The driver of the car didn't see Norm because the truck blocked her vision. Even now I don't know the real story, and it doesn't matter. It was an accident, pure and simple.
Norm's associate, Lark, came to the house and drove me to the hospital. All the while I could see the helicopter flying above us. I grabbed Lark's hand and didn't move a muscle. I was frozen in place, gripped by fear. Numerous thoughts went through my head. I knew that Norm might not survive the trip to the hospital. I thought about how hard I worked to convince myself that I could make it alone in the world. During my first marriage, I had been totally dependent, without resources. I vowed that would never happen again. Somehow that gave me some comfort knowing that very soon I might learn that I'd have to make it alone.
As soon as we arrived at the hospital, I ran to the desk and asked if Norm was still alive. It seemed like an eternity before the woman at the desk assured me that he was, and that doctors were working on him at that very minute. Word of the accident spread like wildfire, and people started arriving at the hospital. There were so many of us in the hallway, we were herded into a room. An older man in the crowd was a clergyman who knew Norm. When we were all gathered, he bowed his head and said, "He was a wonderful man." I said, "He's still alive." Again, he said, "He was a wonderful man." I gave up and let him assure everyone that Norm "was" a wonderful man. Worse things could be said. Shortly thereafter, an attendant walked into the room carrying a plastic bag with all of Norm's belongings. The perfectly ironed jeans had survived the accident looking almost as good as they had that morning. Also in the bag were boxer shorts that said, "The World's Most Wonderful Dad." I think he knew he would be in an accident. He was dressed to the nines, had a new haircut, and let the hospital staff know that he was the world's most wonderful dad. Also in the bag was the watch I had given Norm in November when we'd celebrated Christmas early because life is short, and you never know from day to day what's going to happen.
Meanwhile, the women of the church, who were preparing for the fair the next day, heard about the accident. They were stunned, particularly when they learned from those who had witnessed the accident that it didn't look good. Some people were certain that Norm would never survive the trip to the hospital because he had been so severely injured. Needing to do something to ease their anxiety and to help Norm in whatever way they could, they called Rev. Bob Brown, a friend and a parishioner, and asked for his help. Bob immediately left work and went to the church. He knew, as did the group gathered there that day, that the one thing they could do for Norm was to pray. They went upstairs to the church sanctuary and joined with each other in the hope that their prayers would be answered and their pastor's life would be spared. People all over town prayed when they heard about the accident. Meanwhile, I was at the hospital, pretty much in a state of shock but so very grateful that no one had come to give us the worst possible news that Norm had not survived. As the minutes and hours ticked away, I became more confident that the outcome would be the one we were praying for.
All this time, people came to the church in a steady stream to wait, hope, and pray. It seemed as if the entire town was holding its breath, desperately hoping that this man, who meant so much to so many, would live and return to those who loved him and to the...