Deathbed Request

I came across this tonight, and felt compelled to post it. Written 8/27/09, talking to my father about his deathbed request that I care for my mother.

When I told you on your deathbed
That I would care for her, as you asked,
I never estimated the cost
Or appreciated what you had already paid
In an attempt to purchase her peace.

I picture agonizing nights when you sweated blood
Praying the beads, 59 times 3, at 4:00 in the morning;
But then, that's probably too romantic of an image for a simple man like you.
It was not the martyr's act
But more the steady monk daily in his cell,
No flourish or vision,
Just devoted, obedient routine.

I am anything but routine,
And my devotion is colored by an imagination that invites
Visions
Sweat
Even a spiritual stigmata
Hands, heart and head.

Here, in this room where a dying woman
Wails and rants her last vestiges of opposition
To her fate,
The best witness is exactly what you were, dad,
And what I can only pretend to be:
Steady
Dispassionate
Detached but not unloving
Obedient
Silent.
Only prayer can hope to still the environmental storm of her war,
And heal the casualties of it.

To say that I dread the assignment is not accurate now;
Nor can I say I am anxious, or angry, or sad
To witness such suffering
Unabated
And such stubbornness
Entrenched.
I have been these feelings,
I have been helpless and resentful,
Hopeless and exhausted.
Now I ponder her from far away,
Once or twice still stung by her reflexive hate of
Her condition
Herself
Anything or anyone else present.
I wonder if this is how you came to your steady, dispassionate, obedient, silent practice.

When I have cried and ranted
Inside
To draw close to her;
When I have begged for mercy as if
My own trapped body writhes in that bed;
When I have emptied out all ideas or thoughts
Onto the floor of her room
To watch them dissolve like the mist she wanders through;
And nothing
Nothing
Nothing
Changes or shifts or improves,
There is one road left -
Broken surrender
To the path of repetition,
Obedience to the day's rhythms.
It is like stepping back from an incoming tide
With your most basic natural reflex.

To pray, not because I feel to,
Not because I am assigned,
Not because by such hope some suffering might cease.
To pray only as an act of blind obedience
Without any knowledge or longing of what the prayer might bring.
Is this then what is meant by "God's will?"

When you handed your beads to me you simply asked,
"Will you pray them?"
You did not qualify when, or how, or for what purpose.
You said then,
"Will you use them?"
I have reached for them when most desperate for your strength
And most needful of your faith,
But I have not used them as you did,
Like brushing your teeth,
Or having your morning coffee,
Or checking the mail.

Is that all you wanted of me when you said,
"Take care of your mother"
on your deathbed?

Author's Note

Dad died January 10, 2001, mom died December 15, 2009. We cared for her in our home the last couple of years of her life to avoid a skilled nursing home because that was our family values and tradition. I do question those values now, though at the time, it seemed non-negotiable.

Reviews

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Very very touching story. As you said there are things that seem non-negotiable because it is the right thing to do at the moment, I think? This reminded me of a similar promise I made to my brother on his death bed in 2003. He asked me to take care of his kids. I tried diligently for a few years to keep my promise but it because extremely hard when I had kids of my own. This piece has me all chocked up. Wonderful piece of writing. N.

[Marianne Rose]

Those who have been through a promise of this kind, like you have, can appreciate the double bind and the desire of our hearts that our bodies sometimes don't have the capacity to deliver. It did teach me a lot about judgements I had before about people who put their elders in homes. This experience stripped me of the ability to judge anyone who tries to follow a heart longing but simply can't complete the task. In the end, it taught me a lot about forgiveness, from all different vantage points. We all try our hardest and do our best, given our situations. You tried your best also. Thank you for your tender-hearted reflections.

[-]

Thank you so much for elaborating even further on your thoughts about this subject. N.

[Diamond]

Death of a loved one is the hardest TRUTH one has to accept and live with. This truth brings us terrible pain (sometimes also includes guilt) and a great deal of enlightenment. And one is truly enlightened as he/she learns that moment lost is lost forever...therefore we must endeavor to share our heart with loved ones as much as possible. This poem is amazing. I loved it.

[Marianne Rose]

Thank you from my heart- to be able to share being the witness with others, even after the fact, is healing and brings me peace. There are many more poems yet to write on that time in my life- some of the enlightenment you speak of. In these days of such suffering around the world, I think of this time of my life with mom, and it is a testimony of the human spirit's ability to endure, regardless what happens in the body. Thank you for your review and reflections.

[Teddybearlee]

Such an amazingly descriptive writing, I could visualize and feel almost as if I were there. The pains of not being able to do anything to ease the suffering of another, the promise to your father, it all hit very hard and strong. You are a strong person to have the spirit you do and the ability to do these things, even if now you question the decision to have done it on your own, I think it's such a gift for a child to take care of ailing parents, bless you for that.

[Marianne Rose]

Thank you for your compassionate and understanding response. Suffering is one of the experiences I guess I was meant to witness close up in this life. It is a great teacher. The heart is strong, even in mourning, but we don't always know that. I adolized my father- would do just about anything for him- I think he knew I could only take care of mom if he asked me to. There is no guilt- only the deep sadness that a soul would have to suffer so much before leaving this life. But everyone has his/her own path, and we can't assume anything. In the end, she did finally die in peace and surrender. Thanks for listening and for your caring heart.

[H.L. Cerveise]

The death of a loved one when it is slow and by degrees is an awful thing to endure. When they pass we are glad they will feel no more pain. However, we also have different levels of guilt about, did we do enough and or should I be feeling this relief that they are gone. It, furthermore, helps us face our own mortality something the general population likes to shove down so deep they barely think about it. It is very readable and well laid out stanza wise.

Well done.

[Marianne Rose]

Thank you HL, you speak the truth about all the feelings that bombard you at the end, and afterward. I think a lot of my dad in these days- who also endured a long hard passing- perhaps the subject of death has emerged in my writing just because of what you said- our culture likes to push these things down, and then something like the violence of last week erupts, and those of us who have seen death remember- ask others not to push it down in the telling of our stories. Thank you for your time in reading this and responding- much appreciated.