I normally like to bring a little humor to these thoughts that I share, but I warn you up front, this one is different, this one comes after a very tough week. So, if you are looking for something uplifting, you should probably stop right there, accept my apology and skip this post.
I love the song “circle of life” by Sir Elton John. It is tied to the Disney movie “the Lion King” which is also a great movie that has a great message about growing up. It is lively and entertaining, but in an ever so subtle and animated way it teaches the audiences, mainly children, that life comes with choices and knowing that there are consequences for those choices and also recognizing when it is time to put away the childish behavior, be an adult, or in this case, stop being a cub and become a lion.
This is an incredibly simple message and I love the early animated 90’s version versus the newer one that actually looks like real lions. Technology is amazing with this newer lion king version, so amazing, that I just felt uncomfortable watching it with my grandson. So, we happily watched the old one and we both enjoyed it. He didn’t enjoy it as much as the stupid endless stream of homemade hulk videos available on YouTube though, check it out, I’m not lying! There are actually grownups in dime-store Halloween Hulk costumes with too much time on their hands acting out a plot that makes absolutely no sense in their apartments and backyards. I had no idea that stupidity like that existed but my grandson becomes mesmerized by the videos the same way I imagine I was mesmerized as I watched Raiders of the Lost Ark for the first time.
Anyway, the song is about how we all have a beginning and an end, and from my limited experience thus far, both are tough. In the beginning, you are helpless. You have no words, you can’t inform someone that you have just deposited a messy lump in your diaper or perhaps you have moistened them beyond their holding capacity so, you cry. And even when you do the crying, all that ever happens is someone provides you with a new diaper, or shoves a bottle or boob in your face.
When you get older, you become feeble, you need help getting up and down and that also means you need help getting up and down off the toilet. It’s an uncomfortable feeling taking your mom or dad to the toilet. You know they did it for you but this is different. These were the people that set the rules, gave you discipline and guidance when you needed it, but never wanted it. They wiped your backside when you couldn’t and they dealt with your stupidity when you should have. The uncomfortable part comes when they don’t know it’s YOU that is helping them.
Cancer consumed my dad as I watched him deteriorate from a relatively healthy 77-year-old human, to a frail, helpless man, left with nothing but the ability to communicate with his eyes. My dad was diagnosed with cancer a few months before his death so he fought cancer with all he had but, in the end, cancer was more determined to do its work than he was.
When my dad received his devastating news, he had loved ones with him, he was told of his options, he was told of all the treatments that were available and he was given the estimated odds of recovery. THEN, he was allowed to make choices for himself. There was so much respect in the way my dad was handled. My mother, on the other hand was not given that same respect. She was lumped into a category, a statistic or perhaps a foregone conclusion but she was never given the options for any potential treatment or the estimated odds of recovery like my father was given. No sir, she was told she had the Covid virus in a small room, by herself, without her family around to help her work through the process and make good decisions. In fact, she was given her devastating news by an orderly who was probably eager to clock out and go home. Because of this, I believe my mom, at that moment of being so nonchalantly informed of her positive Covid status, mentally decided her fate had been sealed. Three days later we said goodbye to her forever with one caveat; we could say goodbye to her when the hospital staff said we could.
My dad was given the opportunity and the emotional joy of seeing his children draw their first breath and we, in return, were given the opportunity to hold his hand and watch him draw his last breath, thus the circle of life was complete. My mom was not given the same. My mom was isolated, my mom was treated as if she was some sort of radioactive, destructive membrane from outer space and we were kept isolated from her for “our safety”. Thus, the circle of life was not completed with my mother. I know she could have died in some other fashion without anyone around but she didn’t, she was intentionally stashed behind the Covid Iron Curtain of isolation. So, here are my thoughts; if the damn nurse or doctor can put on a mask and “gown up” as they like to call it and NOT take the Covid virus home with them at the end of their shift, then the family members can do the same frickin thing. Personally, I didn’t care about my personal safety because I had been with her just hours earlier! I was concerned that I was not being allowed to hold the hand of the person that endured my painful child birth and put up with my stupidity during my formative years. Yes sir, I wanted to hold her hand and comfort her as she prepared to touch the face of God. It is a fact that she saw me draw my first breath on this earth and it was my place in the circle of life to hold her hand while she drew her last. Go ahead, call me selfish.
I’ve heard the statement “as a society, our humanity is judged by how well we treat our infirmed and our elderly” and I believe that to be true, so when it is my turn to end my circle, someone please hold my hand.