“Beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them.
The least we can do is try to be there.” – Annie Dillard
I am a woman of a certain age.
That age where most of my friends no longer refer to living parents, where each of us can name another friend who has been diagnosed with something potentially deadly, or at the least, intrusive. An age, where my knees, eyes and ankles remind me that decline is real and inevitable, and an age where, everywhere, simply everywhere I look, I see examples of how I don’t want to end.
It would seem that I have spent too much time in extended-care homes and hospitals. Luckily for me, it has only been as visitor, but it’s been frequent enough to give me pause.
But first, let us talk about the ‘good fight’.
We are in the middle of a war on terror. A war on drugs and an endless war on cancer.
If nothing else it seems we are all geared up and ready for a fight…any fight at all.
I’ve been thinking about all these angry motifs about fighting or raging against the night. All our words are so angry and ready to punch Death in the nose. But Death is a wily bugger. He morphs his dark presence, bobbing and weaving and then instead of stinging like a bee, he shrouds us in a thick blackness.
And by the way? He always wins.
Perhaps it might be better to take all our fierce warring power, all our best fighting strength and let go of our need to think we can control every outcome right to the bitter end.
I am not suggesting we all roll over and die at the least provacation, but yesterday when we were visiting the lawyer to renew our wills, he asked who we wanted to appoint as our alternate power-of-attorney. The person, he said, “…that in the bluntest of terms, has the power to pull the plug.”
I told him that I don’t want the damned plug to begin with. I don’t want the feeding tube, the extra hydration, the whatever-the-hell-we’ve-invented-lately-to-stave-off-the-inevitable. If there are some medicines that allow me to carry on and control, or even cure, some illnesses, then let’s fly at it. But when it’s the end, then please give me the painkillers, keep me comfortable and let me go.
Let me use all my strength, I told him, to make that final trip with a modicum of dignity. Put me on that big ol’ iceberg and give it a big shove out to sea.
He suggested he would use less-colourful terms and would couch my wishes in more legal language, but I believe he caught my drift…so to speak.
“To live is to die to how we wanted it to be, and to open to truth.
To love is to accept. It is the most extraordinary power.” – Jack Kornfield
What I appreciate in your well written blogs is your up front and personal stories.You share from your heart the truth of your thoughts in a nonjudgemental form. After having read your articles I do not feel as though you have slimed me with yet another angry rant (as many do) you put your heart out there for us to see. In my humble opinion that is courage at it’s finest.
Thank you
Eva
Oh Eva. I swear that every time I struggle with the idea of continuing with this whole blogging thing, another fabulous encouragement like yours reaches me. Thank you for this.
My goal is not just to be heard but to also hear from others and create a communal ‘conversation’. I love that we all find so much commonality within so many of my rather random topics.
PS I’m so glad I don’t sound like I’m ranting…I realize that sometimes it’s touch and go on that one 🙂
I just got back from Saskatchewan where I got to visit with mom and dad … Both are 90 and both are in pain, mom in constant pain .
They sit in their house and watch the young speeders squeal by and the elderly scoot by out their front window.
From the kitchen window in back they watch the orioles squabble with the red wing blackbirds at the feeder that dad fills everyday .
They are so lucky they still have each other to help and to bicker with!
I can’t imagine missing them anymore than I already do. I phone or FaceTime them at least once a day and send videos of the kids.
A lot of people told us they should have been in a home years ago…they could fall or hurt themselves cooking or doing the laundry!
Every day at home is a blessing, enjoying the type of freedom that youth longs to have.
Everyday is a blessing for me as well.
Thanks for sharing.
And by the way…Great writing!
Wow Terry, birds and bickering and a faithful son to check in on them sounds pretty good. Like you, I believe that every day they can stay in their own home is a blessing. I’m glad you aren’t listening to the people that want to keep them ‘safe’. As a society, I think we should support seniors to remain independent as long as possible. The studies show the outcomes and quality of life are much higher than being stuck in some extended-care home. Drop-by nursing care and other caregivers can help with the day-to-day management of life and hopefully can address their pain too…thanks for writing.
I so agree. I want to live my life to the fullest and then when it’s time to go, let me on that train, I’m out of here!
Agreed Elinor. My hope is to ride out in a blaze of glory. I know that for the most part we don’t get to pick these things but a gal can wish and dream.
amen to that. great article colleen.
Thanks Mary Lynne. I really appreciate your comments.
True words!
Michele, apparently the truth shall set you free. Here’s hopin’!
Exactly, Colleen. I have seen far too much of this prolonged dying. I am with you all the way in this fight.
Becca, ‘prolonged dying’ indeed. It is so wrong on so many levels. It costs all, not just financially, but especially emotionally. We are doing no one any favours with our current approach.
Well said Colleen
Thank Edna…seems I’m preaching to the choir on this one.