I spent the day with my dying father today.
TBH, I really didn't want to. We aren't close. In fact, the whole trip - coming to see him 5 states away - wasn't on the list of the top things I was looking forward to doing this week.
My dad and I are not "close." I guess growing up with someone who never thinks about anyone but themselves (amongst other transgressions) would cause a child to not be "close" with a parent.
But, over the course of the week...well, really, by day 5 of 8...I have achieved a state of forgiveness. Watching him struggle was a struggle for me. My dad is dying from a rare disease that robs the oxygen from his lungs and, essentially, causes a slow, suffocating death.
I am a big believer in karma. I come from a good old-fashioned, midwestern, protestant, God-fearing family. Karma is not a key component of Christianity, so for those of us walking around witnessing a dude who was rude to a barista and then, while turning away from the coffee counter, spills his own coffee on himself while we whisper, "karma," to the person next to us...I don't think we ever really ponder the actual intentions behind the word. To us, it is synonymous with, "that bastard got what he deserved."
I recently read a book called Shogun by James Clavell that really put it into perspective for me (I highly recommend this book!) Karma is, in my words, pay back for being a shit human being. But, not just a shit human being for a moment in time. It's pay back for being a shit human being your whole life and (if you believe in reincarnation as I do) being a shit human being in your former life(ves). My dad is not suffering from a rare lung disease, he is enduring his karma.
I want to explain this to my dad, but our society teaches us that direct and honest conversation is rude unless it is with a trusted confidant who understands your words are coming from a place of sincerity and love and not hurt. You would think that a child would have this sort of relationship with their parent, but I don't. And, in his final months of life, I do not want to hurt him, which is what would happen if I laid out why I think he has been dealt this shit hand. Also, if I were to utter the word "karma" he'd immediately dismiss me as cray-cray.
I suspect he already knows why. How could he not? Death requires you to reflect on life. Life is death and death is life (cue Elton John's "Circle of Life"). If he has not reflected, then he is truly lost and has no shot at any sort of eternal peace (whatever that means to him.)
Will I ever make peace with my childhood? I am not sure. I hope so. But, if there is anything that this week has taught me, it's:
1) I do not want to die a horrible, slow death (in the end, I'm not sure I have much choice in the matter, though.)
2) I want to foster an open, direct and devastatingly honest legacy with my family. If I've been a shit human being, I want to hear about it.
3) I will live every day with a clear focus and perspective on being kind to others without pretense.
4) When I know my death is severely imminent, I will continue to live my life serenely and treat those around me with gratitude and love. I will live as well as I can and not squander even one second of time wallowing about my fate and living in regret of time lost.
5) I will listen to my doctors. I will listen to my spouse. I will indulge his every whim so that he knows I did not leave this earth without a fight or think that I did not give my all to stay with him.
6) In my final days, I will swallow my pain, frustration and self-defeat and put on a face of bravery and confidence in knowing that I will be back as the best damn flower, dog...whatever...that I can be and that I have another shot of achieving nirvana and, hopefully, avoiding spilling coffee on my shirt.
As for my dad, I hope he is the dirt my roots grow from or the water that my little doggie tongue drinks after rolling in the fall leaves of a maple tree.
XO
Jess
Comments