Our parents are aging, my parents, Jay's parents, the world's parents.
I've read several articles on how to best help your aging parents. The one that resonated most with me emphasized helping them with what they need and where they are truly at instead of trying to fix things.
Adult children like to fix things. We want there to be less stress and less chaos and if we're honest, some of that desire is for us.
Actually, most of that desire is for us.
It's less hassle for us if our parent's end-of-life scenarios play out like an online shopping experience: self-selecting, clinical, isolated, tidy. Heartless, cruel, shallow, yes, but how efficient.
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I went to my parent's Medicare Annual Wellness Visit today. I've heard of this visit from a few of my older friends and family members. My mother-in-law, literally never given to criticism or outbursts, said it's a stupid test and made her feel like an idiot.
It's actually a series of questions and small tests that the person has to be walked through. I watched as my parents answered the basic questions and failed in several areas, mostly memory. It felt inappropriate, actually, to be sitting there observing. My step-father used to build buildings from the ground up. Lay the foundation and build from there. He couldn't remember the month of October, going backward from December.
There wasn't a lot pleasant about what turned into a two-hour visit, but as we walked out of the exam room, I realized once again the lie of consumerism. The lie of consumerism or materialism, in general, is that life is a pursuit, and that pursuit is streamlined, focused and purposeful. It doesn't have time for tottering parents and AnnualWellness Visits.
In this alternate reality that is much of my culture, this was a waste of an afternoon. I didn't accomplish anything. I didn't buy anything. I didn't spend time on my phone. I didn't work to earn money. I just sat in a room, present, with the two people who've given me the most materially and physically over the course of my life.
And I was there to experience it, all of it. I watched the question flow. I listened to the nurses and doctors. I was able to answer some key questions and direct the conversation in ways that were helpful. My presence in their healthcare maintenance in the last six months especially has significantly improved their overall health outcomes. They are at the stage where they need a guide and some assistance as they manage the labyrinth of choices and appointments. They haven't lost their independence yet and my assistance is timely.
* * *
Less reactivity and more calm, more connection to myself, to the earth and to our purpose here, has made times like these more meaningful. I go knowing it's the right thing to do. It's not about me anymore. I am less reactive so I don't need to be on guard. I am more connected to myself so situations no longer need to produce some emotion or benefit for me to want to be there.
When something is the right thing to do, it provides its own kind of benefit if we are open. I have often not been able to be open to that reality, the true reality, the Truth. A traumatized brain functions in its own reality and is unable to handle much more.
Today, my parents were compliant at times, but also resistant, defiant, charming, helpless, determined, resigned. My mother spent a good five minutes trying to convince the doctor her breast cancer had been caused by chocolate. She will not listen to reason. She will never change her story. They often leave their caregivers harried. I am not proud of that, I wish it was different, but it isn't. They are my parents, I am the child. They are not me, but I will always be there.
* * *
One of the other articles said just that, your parents want your presence. They want to know you care. They want to know you care and aren't just there to try and fix things, to coordinate things.
They want what we all want, and they want and need it even more as they begin to slowly lose independence, friends, foods, life. How can we not see that? How can we not honor that...
* * *
Trauma robs us of the joys and pains of normal life. Kay says that a normally functioning brain, a normal neural network, handles positive and negative events, processes them, resolves them. This was news to me.
I am slowly beginning to experience the joy of a normal range of emotions, with sadness and frustration mixed in with all of it. It's there, it's processed, it's part of the experience of life. This was one of those days. I was there, I wasn't traumatized by someone in particular that has traumatized me in the past, and even that was a significant victory.
I continue to be surprised each day as a new layer of the onion falls off.