Death Makes Frequent Stops in Sunny Florida

I have not had much time in the past couple months for a whole lot of reflection on much other than the subject of Death. My family has suffered a good deal of loss in these two months. I’ve written previous entries about the wintry months as seasons of loss. In the wintry months the animals scurry for warmth, trees grow into cold bare limbs. Where I live it tends to get cold. This winter however, was extraordinary in its waves of ice and snow storms stretching from Texas to Maine. It is one matter entirely to talk about the philosophical aspects of death and loss, and another entirely, to put into practice elements of one’s faith in order to deal with it. Loved ones with cancer may have more time to prepare for the end than those who suddenly fall ill, or collapse and wind up in the hospital. It can be their time all day long, but the moment we perceive it as a loss it becomes personal to us. It pains us as people to lose those we love so dearly. I used to say to myself that I knew that my parents wouldn’t live forever, but deep down inside I had hoped they would crack the code to immortality.

I spent two weeks in Florida, albeit a break from the winter, but not one from the inevitable. With my father in dire straits in the hospital, I visited everyday, not sure that there was anything that I could do but be there for him, and for my brothers. We took every step imaginable in the span of two weeks, in the hopes that he would show signs of recovery, but deep down inside I knew this would not be possible. When I went to Florida in January I had a very good feeling that my father’s condition would not change much. I made a promise to myself that if he was in this situation for too long, and nothing could be done to help him through these dark times, I would be willing to give him his final wish – a DNR order. They cleared up the infection, but he still wasn’t breathing on his own.  He spent too long on the ventilator, and the doctor’s suggested a tracheostomy. After that was done, his breathing improved, and within two days took a turn for the worst. Inevitability stung hard. We eventually agreed on the removal of the ventilator, but that did not last long.

Much of the pain I am dealing with, is surrounded by the idea that we can possess a level of foresight from days to months in advance of a scenario, and not be capable of doing anything to interfere with fate’s divine plan. Then the question arises, “what good is this ability if we cannot use it to change the world?” Maybe the point is that people gifted with these skills are, despite their own selfish desires to change dire situations, meant to steer clear of fate’s hallowed hand, and use these skills to try to understand what is happening and to learn from them. I’m no reverend, nor am I an expert in the supernatural. But the answer I propose is the only one I have at this juncture.  Other people cry for mercy way too late and make deals with God that cannot be met, because for whatever reason they are incapable of dealing with life and death on the terms dealt by fate. For whatever reason their answer is anguish and despair. I hope that gets them through the process of mourning, but highly doubt it.

~ by tavthe on January 31, 2009.