October 13, 2009
One of the strangest days of my life, I must say.
You revisit one of the environments that has thrown you out, dejected you from being yourself, and you see all these faces, both with a combination of fear of you as a person while simultaneously confronted with death head on that has struck you personally.
Does anyone really care?
You go through the motions of death being something that makes you angry, upset, sad, makes you laugh, resignation, etc. It just is a mixture of emotions everyone around me is experiencing.
And yet I don't move. I am emotionally sound, yet silent.
I played violin today, maybe not up to the best standards, but I tried my best. People commented that is was wonderful, although the hearing aids were enough for me to realize that for some, just hearing noise is a blessing.
I found myself reflecting on was constants I have in life, both now and for the long term. A list comes to mind:
*Family, Gretchen, Erik, and so many friends disguised as my guiding forces
*Death
And then I sat there and meditated on that. And here is what I found:
Reflecting on my Grandmother's life, I never want to see me or anyone I love placed in a nursing home where the life and the meaning in it is sucked away from you. I don't want my vacation away from "home" to be down the hall in front of a puzzle or in front of a TV while other people groan and make noise from pain they cannot tend to or control, while the individual sits next to you in his or her own piss because no one changed them.
I refuse to accept that fate for anyone. I would rather die.
I reflected on mistakes my Grandmother made, and yet the successes she had that others now recognize. First, that saying whatever you wish to say isn't always the wisest decision, that tact always will help and make you a better individual. Second, hold on to what is important. For Grandma, it was God and a good book. Family was important, but she only realized that in the end of her life. Third, take a walk. My grandmother walked everywhere; cars were the enemy. So take a walk, take in the air, and for God sakes, breathe. Fourth, never be afraid to say "I love you." My grandmother didn't say it enough. So always say I love you to the people you love.
What throws me still is being in the church that I was brought up in and thrown out, one church that when ignorant of who its members are is accepting and accommodating, and yet when exposed is nothing more than something that needs fixing, correcting. If we were all about loving people for people, and loving whatever "God" is for what "God" is, we would be better people. We would have realized that all of us are little peons on this great planet, with no more purpose than the specs of sand underneath us.
So love and loathing came together today. Death and the life that continues to go on came together. They lower a body into the ground today just as another job to do in the day; the people that lower my grandmother's body into her grave did not know her, nor do they care. It is another job, another task they have been assigned. My mother lays in bed tonight, looking at the ceiling and doubting she did everything to be the daughter she aspired to be to her mother, while others are coping in different ways. I sit here writing the words on this screen, fueled only by the reserve energy I have to give after the ordeal that was today.
People are so funny. Life is funny. Death is funny. It is these indescribable things that bring us happiness, sadness, joy, hope, fear, every single emotion.
The following poem was read today, written by Mary Elizabeth Frye:
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
And so Frye's words should conclude any weeping, any sorrow that anyone is experiencing.
I am glad that you chose to share your thoughts with us. First of all I am blessed to know that we will always be a rock in each others lives. No matter what, we will be there for one another.
ReplyDeleteSecondly, "My mother lays in bed tonight, looking at the ceiling and doubting she did everything to be the daughter she aspired to be to her mother" was very poignant. Tears really came to my eyes as I read this, not necessarily for Peg, but just the message that is being sent. We must take advantage of the time we share with people now, to make positive memories, to treat them in a way that they will think of us fondly, to just make the most of the time we have together. It makes me wonder if I am doing everything I can to be the best daughter, sister, friend, etc. I know that I am not, and I guess that is the humbling part of being human. We are not perfect. All that we can hope for is to be able to look back on our life and know that despite any imperfections, we lived a good life and left people a little bit better than before we met them.
I love you. I could go on in to details about how I want you to know ... yada yada yada ... but I'm pretty sure you know all that. Which is pretty wonderful. Because our friendship, well, it is one of those successful things you can look back upon and smile.
Gretchen
Well, I have to start by saying that this was interesting to read. You've got some strong thoughts, but I mean that much is obvious from just spending a few minutes with you.
ReplyDeleteA few comments on the nursing home idea:
Why are nursing homes such terrible places?
I understand that the living situation isn't ideal, but I think that a number of good things can be found in a nursing home as well.
First, compared to some other options, living in a nursing home isn't such a bad deal. When you reach the point in your life where you can no longer live on your own, you don't have too many options. You could (as you said you would rather) just keep trying to live by yourself and eventually die. I suppose that this is more prideful than living in a nursing home (I mean I'm sure some people are ashamed of the fact that they need someone else to take care of them), but I'm not sure that it's a better option. Life is a blessing, and we should take advantage of it. You loved your grandmother, right? And I'm also assuming that you appreciated the fact that you could still see her. If she hadn't gone and lived in a nursing home, she probably would have died earlier than she did. You wouldn't want to give up those extra years that you got to see her, would you? I'm sure the same can be said of her - that she wouldn't have wanted to give up the extra years that she got to see her family/friends/loved ones. Also, I think that living in a nursing home would be a very unique experience. I mean you're going back to square one where you need someone else to take care of you. It might seem very unfortunate, but I think you'd appreciate the little things more and more. Yes, the woman next to you might be sitting in her own piss, but I mean she's living in a nursing home, and if you were living there too, I think you would have a better feel for what she's going through. You could make it into a sort of joke or something. Also, just the fact that there's even someone who will clean up after her at all is incredible. I mean if you saw some lady sitting on the street who had pissed herself, would you change her clothes for her? I doubt it.
Another idea: watching people fight with death could be exhilarating or at least heartwarming. I mean say there's an elderly man named George who lives down the hall. George has Alzheimer's, and it's slowly getting worse. Now let's say that his daughter comes to visit him every Sunday. Each time his daughter visits, she has to wonder whether or not George will remember her. And each time he does, it can be looked at as a small miracle.
Next, when you're living in a nursing home, you can really do whatever you want (or at least, whatever you're capable of doing). I'm sure it may be boring, but you could spend your time doing valuable things. You could be reflecting on your life (and at that point, you'd hopefully have a lot to look back on). You could be reading books, watching movies, writing your own books and/or journals, just talking with people, admiring nature, etc, etc. It's a time in life when you can just stand still, and no one will blame you for it. The only other time that we can really just sit and do "nothing" for days or weeks or months or years at a time is when we're babies. Personally I think it would be a very interesting and unique point of life. At the moment, I can easily say that I wish that I'll never get that old, but I think that as I get there, it'll be a different story. I think the elderly have a very unique view of life. I mean every day that some of them are alive is a miracle, and I think at that point you would begin to appreciate things that you'd taken for granted your entire life.
The other option left is living with a relative and having them take care of you, but I think that would be a terrible burden to place on a loved one. It would be better to be around the people you loved, rather than just some other old people, but if I were in that situation, I think it would pain me to burden a loved one with the task of taking care of me.
ReplyDeleteJust some thoughts. That ended up being kinda long... actually too long to even fit in one comment, and I'm sorry if it's not spaced out too well. This was cool though.
-Alex