I got word that my father was admitted to the hospital and released back home, yet again. He’s been in and out of hospitals for the last 4 years from stroke, dementia, diabetes, mismanagement of medications and now a serious bout with the flu. At almost 80 years old, as you know, the flu can be deadly.
I knew that embarking on this around the world sabbatical adventure it would leave me further removed from my father. Even though there is great technology that keeps me in touch with people halfway around the world, my father’s dementia continues to progress to the point of times not being able to figure out how to use the mobile phone and even a television remote. Let alone to manage his dozen or so medications by himself. I’m grateful to my brother and to all the people over there that are helping to care for him.
I am a truth teller. I speak truth. People have a hard time with it when it asks them to look at themselves in the mirror. I have been told I am different, too much, untrustworthy, judgmental, Mr. Congeniality, narcissistic and even accused of having behavioral problems. Both, in my personal life and in my career. It leaves me a loner in life at times. I’m only stating facts, I’m not the victim. It leaves me with no other choice than to listen and trust the spirit inside of me that I’m being the best of service even when there is great push-back. This is the case with my father.
I cannot object to people rejecting what I am inviting them into or offering to them. It would be nice for me to think that all people can grow together beyond the idea that we are troubled continually by the never-ending self-created suffering inside the human condition, however unlikely that is to happen. And I cannot continue to waste my time trying to think that everyone is capable of going beyond their thinking mind and release into the spirit of life and living all the time. I have my moments of contraction too.
I visited Colorado last year twice, one time for an extended visit to help my father post hospitalization for one of his strokes. He had asked me to come and I was on the next plane to visit him. Throughout all the visits with home nurses, physical therapists, attorneys, financial planners, doctors, insurance companies, friends, family and even an 8-day stay in an Alzheimer’s hospital unit. It was evident that my father was entering or had entered the end of life stage. Nothing terminal, just yielding to the inevitable… our own mortality.
There were lots of opinions on how things should be done from family and friends. Even writing this online, I believe will upset some people because they think this is a private family matter. No more hiding, no more secrets, we all need to go through something like this eventually. I’ve become exhausted and tired of keeping secrets and the betrayals which emerge from keeping secrets. This all stops with me.
Please forgive me, repeatedly. I ask for forgiveness and offer my apologies, I had once again upset my family, my father this time. I was asked to step in and assist him with managing his affairs and without hesitation I joyfully accepted. And then, behind the scenes, I was removed from doing so, with no word or conversation, leaving my brother on the line to deal with it all. The story was eventually changed, covering up the real story, that I was to be leaving the country, so I needed to be removed from all responsibilities.
Dementia is the disease that caused this, it does some weird things to people and very sad to the families that are forced to deal with it. I didn’t take it personally nor get upset because I knew dementia was the culprit. Sadly, at the same time, I felt the disease create more distance between my father and me and my brother.
We are all going to do our own end of life the way we want to do it when we are fortunate enough to be given the choice. I respect the unbelievable strength of the human will and my father’s desire to live in his home, even when he has times where he wants to sell his house and leave.
All of this that I mention is in the past. The past doesn’t exist anymore. Forgiveness releases the grip that the past has on me. Only the grief and sadness that lies in me time after time, witnessing event after event regarding my father’s deterioration, with great resistance, into his own mortality. I have a hope that he can someday he can let go into my brother, who loves him so much and is there to support him and fulfill his wishes on how he wants to do the end of his life.
I have always said my father is one of the happiest go-lucky people I know. He has always followed his dreams and desires and even quit his jobs spontaneously when things weren’t going quite right. He makes friends everywhere he goes and can hold a conversation with just about anyone. He has been a role model in my life to not give in to societal beliefs and to live my life and follow my dreams. I have told my father all of this. Maybe he will be able to read this and hear again how much I love him and how much I appreciated the way he has lived his life and wants to be living through the end of his life.
No more resistance…
It’s important that I continue to release the grief of what it means to continue to lose my father to the disease of dementia and to death, we are all on the same path, only different paths. This is one way I want to continue to release the grief. I don’t care anymore, who gets to see the inside of my personal life, students, clients, friends, family. Forgive me if I have upset you. Please realize this isn’t about you and it’s my way of becoming free.
| Every generation Blames the one before And all of their frustrations Come beating on your door I know that I’m a prisoner Crumpled bits of paper You say you just don’t see it Say it loud, say it clear
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So Don’t yield to the fortunes You sometimes see as fate It may have a new perspective On a different day And if you don’t give up, and don’t give in You may just be OK. So we open up a quarrel Say it loud, say it clear I wasn’t there that morning I think I caught his spirit Say it loud, say it clear
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