It was a beautiful spring afternoon in Eastern Oklahoma when my secretary told me that Oleatha was on the phone. Oleatha was 67 years old and she had been having problems. She often became confused. She had a tendency to forget. Once, she had gotten lost going from church out to her home on a bluff that overlooked the lake. At the insistence of her family, she had gone through a battery of medical tests. The reports were in and Oleatha wanted me to come by and visit her.

When I drove into her driveway, I couldn’t help but notice the beauty surrounding her home. The redbud trees were blossoming, the tulips had pushed their way up out of the ground and were blooming, and the warm rays of the sun were glistening as they danced across the surface of the lake.

In spite of the beauty of the scener…