I began the day with mom – she had already eaten breakfast and had a shower and was in her chair by 9:30. She slept a lot after her shower. It’s that kind of day today though. I would try to wake her but she would just open her eyes, look at me blankly and wide-eyed, and go back to sleep. I do still wonder if she is up all night or not and just has her days and nights mixed up. Around 10:30, I put the headphones on her and played a beautiful book on tape that I listened to the other day, “Heaven is For Real: A Little Boy’s Astounding Story of His Trip to Heaven and Back.”
In light of the season, I wanted to share with you all, something that a colleague shared with me a while back:
Of Elders, Character, Christ’s Passion, and Blessing (by Father Ron Rolheiser)
At a workshop several years ago, a woman shared this story: She was the mother of four children and, while they were all still young, at home, in school, her father, already a widower, suffered a stroke that left him severely debilitated. He was unable to take care of himself and needed assistance.
Being the dutiful daughter, she had him move in with her own family, at great inconvenience to her husband and children. So many of their family routines had to be adjusted and rearranged to accommodate her dad’s presence. Their life changed radically. At a point, her father’s condition deteriorated to the point where she had to take him to a hospice where he could receive full-time care. But, even then, she still needed to visit him daily, often having to take one or more of her children with her. This went on for seven years. Daily, she and one or other of her children would have to go and spend some time with her father.
During those years, many times, in large and small ways, she apologized to her husband and children for the inconvenience this was causing them. Eventually, her father died. Several years after the funeral her eldest son, now in college, said to her: “You know, mom, all those years that we had to arrange our lives so much around Grandpa and his illness—that was really a precious time. That was a great gift to our family?”
How can the life of someone like that, someone whose life and existence can weigh on us like a burden, be a blessing? How are we gifted by having people like that in our lives?
The answer is part of a deep human and spiritual mystery, a part of the secret of love itself. We give life to each other not just in what we actively do for each other, but also, and sometimes especially, in what we passively absorb and are unable to do. Helplessness brings a special presence into a room. We give life through our activity and we also give life through our passivity. We bring a blessing to the sick when we visit them, but we also leave their presence blessed by having visited them. There is love in giving, just as there is love in receiving. And the gift does not always look or feel like a beautifully wrapped present. The gift can, initially, seem like a burden, an unwanted imposition, an awkward inconvenience, an unfortunate duty. But those feelings themselves eventually contribute to the depth of the gift.
We see this mysterious aspect of love illustrated in the Gospels when they describe how Jesus gave his life and his death for us. Each of the Gospels has two very distinct parts: The early parts of the Gospels describe Jesus’ activity and how he gave his life for us by what he did for us. The latter part of the Gospels describes Jesus’ passivity and how he gave his death for us by what he passively absorbed for us. Appropriately this latter part is called The Passion(from the Latin, passio, meaning: passiveness).
Today we struggle to understand this, both intellectually and existentially. Sadly, today, we tend to define life and meaning almost solely on the basis of health, productivity, usefulness, and what we can actively contribute to others. What can we bring to the table?
And so we ask ourselves: What do the elderly, who can no longer live on their own, contribute to our lives? What meaning is there in the continued existence of a person living with full-blown dementia? What does someone who is mentally handicapped bring to the community? Why prolong the life of someone who is in the final stages of a terminal illness? And: Why keep a debilitated Grandpa in the house when he disrupts our normal family life?
The answer: Because a person in this condition, at some deep level, is giving us a precious gift, namely, depth and character, and the true meaning of what it is to love.
Whenever a culture debates about the merits of euthanasia, it is an infallible sign that we no longer understand this. I like James Hillman’s take on this: Productivity is too narrow a measure of usefulness, disability too cramping a notion of helplessness. An old woman may be helpful simply as a figure valued for her character. Like a stone at the bottom of a riverbed, she may do nothing but stay still and hold her ground, but the river has to take her into account and alter its flow because of her. An older man by sheer presence plays his part as a character in the drama of the family and neighborhood. He has to be considered, and patterns adjusted simply because he is there. His character brings particular qualities to every scene, adds to their intricacy and depth by representing the past and the dead. When all the elderly are removed to retirement communities, the river flows more smoothly back home. No disruptive rocks. Less character, depth or true love too.
There are many friends and family who have sat around mom’s table early Easter morning partaking in the homemade brunch she would serve us….Easter pie, homemade rolls, eggs, ham, blintzes…a feast of love. Many have texted me today or called to send a prayer or to recollect our wonderful times around the table together at mom and dad’s house. We are blessed indeed that mom is still here with us to celebrate the season and time of family and friends.
Mom woke just in time for lunch, which was being brought into her room. She had tilapia with wine sauce, yellow rice, green beans, mixed fruit and juice. I began to feed the first few spoonfuls to mom but she quickly grabbed the spoon to feed herself. We did some hand over hand feeding with the spoon for a while, then mom fed herself. She would stop in between though and just sit there and need another refresher on what to do and what she was doing. Her nose runs soooo much when she eats. It is extremely annoying to her. When mom woke today, she was in a very stubborn mood which is hard to deal with sometimes. She vascilated between trying hard to feed herself, then sitting and doing nothing and ignoring my words of encouragement, then pushing me away with all her strength when I would try hand over hand prompting. Sometimes, she would even empty a fully loaded spoon I had just prepared for her to lift, and she would reload it herself or just spread the food all over the plate. We sort of argued in a way then, and after that, she continually, and effectively fed herself. Thank God. The respiratory therapist said that her CO2 levels were at 53 this morning. This is NOT good. Too high. At noon though, her numbers were back down to 43 so the therapist put her back on the CPAP mode of the vent. She seems to be having difficulty with higher CO2 levels lately and this makes her sleepy. We are trying to move her around more to increase her breathing. Anthony and Con arrived next and we all tried talking to mom. She fell asleep though. One of the nurses slipped on water on the floor by the garbage can and hurt his foot. Mom slept the whole time Con and Anthony were there. They said she had a few more of the shaking and high total rate pressure episodes too but mainly slept while they were there. Terry and Dad arrived later. They sat with mom but she slept all afternoon. She woke for dinner: chicken salad, tomato, a roll, and mixed fruit…but went right back to sleep. They tucked her in and prayed and left.
"I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in Me will live even if he dies,” John 11:25
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