Death Panel

Posted by fxckfeelings on November 30, 2009

Seeing someone through a long illness makes saying goodbye a little easier, but that’s like saying that lifting weights makes it easier to lift a truck; losing someone you love is an impossible, painful task, no matter what the circumstances. You don’t protect them from death by protecting them from death, but by bearing the sorrow of their memories.
–Dr. Lastname

My father, a Holocaust survivor, is dying of cancer. I’m his only child, and while my mother is doing the best she can, I feel overwhelmed with responsibility and grief. I don’t know how to stop feeling so helpless, not just because I love him and can’t save him, but because he overcame so much to make life possible for me, and now all I can do is watch him die. My goal is to figure out what I can do for him since he’s done so much for me.

Don’t fall for the common misconception that you fulfill your duty to your parents by taking care of them and keeping them safe when they’re old. As a genuine geezer, Dr. Lastname can tell you with authority: you can’t, and it’s not your duty anyway.

No, I’m not telling you to push your dad out on an ice flow or forget about him, not for a moment. I am telling you to think about two things: what your goal will be for your kids when you get old and need their help, and how little you can do for anyone when they’re suffering from old age.

If you’ve made sacrifices for your kids, it’s for the future of your family, and you want your kids to do the same for their kids. The last thing you want is to deplete their resources, disrupt the stability of their marriages, or take them away from your grandkids.

My guess is that your father didn’t have a child after surviving the Holocaust simply because he wanted care during old age or revenge on the enemies of the Jews. If he’s like most survivors, his main goal was to do what he started out doing before the earthquake happened, which was to give love to the next generation, pass on good moral values, and not let unavoidable sorrow or anger interfere.

Perhaps the intensity of your sorrow is part of your inheritance as the only child of a survivor. Your goal is not to make it go away by holding on to him, but to bear it, as your parents did, while living a full life.

So your goal isn’t to devote yourself to your father’s care; it’s to help him if there’s something you can do that will make a substantial difference and meanwhile continue with your normal life priorities.

No, it’s not a process that will make you feel good; tearing yourself away from his care, even though you know you can’t do more, never feels good and you’ll be tempted to keep on doing more and more and more.

If you let your loving, protective feelings take over, however, you’ll wear yourself out, do him no good, and damage the life your father wants you to build for yourself and others. Your father survived impossible hardship; honor him by surviving his illness with your sanity and priorities intact.

STATEMENT:
Prepare a statement to protect yourself from irrational guilt and responsibility. “In my family, we are committed to caring for one another, but we are also committed to carrying on with life and we know there is only so much we can do when faced with life’s worst problems, like aging, death, and loss. I will do anything for my father that will really help. And I will try to bear the pain of losing him without faltering in my other responsibilities, as he did with his losses throughout his life.”

I know it’s a cliché, but I am a gay man with a cat I love more than anything in the world. The problem is that she’s 15, she’s having serious problems with arthritis (and general old age), and the vet has made it clear that there are ways to prolong her life but not without some suffering on her part. The last thing I want is for my girl to suffer, but when I think about living without her, it’s like my heart stops. My goal is to make a responsible decision even though just thinking about making the decision tears me up inside.

Responsible decisions about unhappy dilemmas will almost always make you feel worse, because the only choice you have is between less-pain-now-and-feeling-like-a-shit-later and gagging-on-the-bitten-shit-bullet-now-but-knowing-you’ve-done-the-right-thing-later. Be a shit, or eat shit. Viva life.

So if your goal is to feel happy about your beloved cat’s death, forget it. On the other hand, if your goal is to do right by your old friend, then prepare to suck it up and bear your sorrow proudly.

It’s dangerous to want to feel less pain, because in order to do that, you’ll need to stop being a sensitive gay guy. You’ll need to get tough, brag about your sports injuries, and trade in your cat for an iguana.

Furthermore, you’ll need sign up for my cut-rate lobotomy service. Don’t worry, I promise to keep my charges down until I’ve completed 5 and gained the experience necessary to put myself in the upper ranks of brain surgeons. It’s all in the wrist.

If you insist on being gay and staying true to yourself, however, you must accept your pain. In all fairness, you wouldn’t want to get over the loss of a close friend in 2 weeks. Feeling pain is part of honoring her importance. There’s no shame in that, or the cliche.

STATEMENT:
So give yourself a pep talk to remember that pain can have positive meaning if you make it so. “I’ve been lucky to share my life with a wonderful cat, who gave me the kind of conditional non-acceptance that only a cat can provide. She saw me through tough times and taught me that the only thing of real importance was seeing to her needs. I’ll do right by her and cherish her memory.”