Wednesday, May 16, 2018

"The Lion in Winter"

     What do you do when all you can do is wait and reminisce… you wait and you reminisce.
     In my case, I wait, reminisce, and now want to write a bit.
     This is what you do in when someone you love is in hospice care as my father is. We spend as much time with him and try to make him as comfortable as possible which is what hospice care is. The actual definition of hospice is a home for the terminally ill. Is my father terminally ill? He does have Parkinson’s and that degenerative disease has immobilized a man who took great pride in his athleticism and took great care of his body. That disease has simply worn him out.
     Reminiscing is, of course, remembering the past. The dictionary on my MacBook defines it as to “indulge in the enjoyable recollection of past events.” That is what we have, in part, done. When it is done in a hospice setting, it is more bittersweet than enjoyable. But, reminisce we do.
     Sometimes they call it palliative care which is the medical relief of pain while not addressing the medical condition. My Dad is not, as yet, in need of such. We have no way of knowing if he will need such or not. The body, he took such good care of, and the devoted care of my mother has sustained him through his Parkinson’s thus far. He sleeps, he tries to eat a bite here or there, and when he is awake, his mind is there. We are fortunate for the latter.
     In this day and age of social media, almost everyone is aware of what has and is happening. We are getting phone calls, texts, and emails. They are all wonderful expressions of care, thoughts, and prayers for Dad and for all of us. Many share a moment, a memory, that involved Dad and touched them in some positive or humorous way. Sometimes, the memory is something that we knew nothing about. It is like that in this kind of time. You learn things about your loved one that you did not know and see new perspectives and facets that make the bittersweet a bit sweeter.
     Dad is a lion. Our family friend, Ken Sarajian, wrote a beautiful piece on this in 2014 for the Armenian Weekly: The Last Lion. It is a lovely reminiscence. It is odd, unfair, or whatever you want to call it but Parkinson’s has taken this lion’s roar from him. The man that could bellow instructions, praise, or admonitions across the track is now reduced to speaking in an almost inaudible whisper.
     The health care folks who deal with the elderly nearing the end are special. I am not sure it is a job I could do. I am less sure that I could do it with the care that some of the nurses and aides have shown. Friends and family who have been through this before refer to them as angels. Indeed they are.
     While most of us go through this, perhaps, a few times in our lives. These care providers see it everyday. They help both patient and family navigate what are uncharted waters for most of us. They have the charts.
     So, we are reminiscing, we are waiting, we are trying to provide comfort. If you have a thought or memory you want to share, send it along. We will share those that we know will bring a smile to his face or a thumbs up.

1 comment:

  1. It was summer circa 1982 your father taught me, the swimmer, how to develop a pace for distance running. This cub found a pace running with the Lion almost every weekday that helped me overcome some health issues and inspired me to go beyond the my earlier limits.

    Sharing that path, that summer, lead me to a mental and physical place that went on for many years, I owe that to Sonny.

    Thank you Aram Sonny Gavoor, and bless you and all your family.






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