The Twilight Saga

Posted by fxckfeelings on March 22, 2012

Regardless of what you hear on TV about the power of exercise, fish oil, and Xenu, none of us has much control over the way we or our loved ones die. We beat death, not by postponing the inevitable, but by sustaining our most important priorities—love and commitments—in the face of helplessness, pain, and impending loss. In other words, we beat death in so much as we don’t let it take over our lives.
–Dr. Lastname

I love my wife and we’ve had a great 30 years together but, since her cardiac arrest during a heart attack, she hasn’t been the same. What I really hate is that, as much as I want to help her recover and prevent her from slipping back, she doesn’t seem to want to get better. I know she has some memory problems and isn’t steady on her feet, but her physiotherapist gave her a good set of exercises. Instead of doing them, however, she’s happy to stay in our bedroom all day and watch TV, often blowing off important medical appointments. I get furious and find myself screaming at her, which does nothing but make me feel mean and cruel. My goal is to get her to do her best to recover, because I don’t want to punish her, but I can’t stand the idea that she’s making herself worse, and then I could lose her.

People don’t age and die because we lose our fight to live; we die because we die. Fighting is merely a protest demonstration and/or holding action. Understandably, you don’t want to lose your wife, but no amount of effort on her part will stave off death forever.

We’d all prefer to believe that love and determination could drive your wife to recover from her disability, and, under some circumstances, they could (most of those circumstances, as we’ve said many times, involve a screenwriter).

Unfortunately, they often can’t, and, if her disability is not treatable, persistent pushing could make you abusive and destroy the relationship that’s her most meaningful source of support. In that case, your expectations are an escape from sorrow that can ruin what’s left of your life together, which illustrates one of life’s ever-present paradoxes; try too hard to live, and you ruin your life.

Take comfort from the fact that you’ve assembled a good treatment team and that they haven’t found fault in your methods, nor been able to do better. That means, however, that you’ve lost part of your wife’s personality permanently and may soon lose her altogether. You now face the tougher job of accepting your loss so you can make the most of the time you have left with what’s left of her personality.

Instead of suing her for malpractice, keep your negative feelings to yourself. Your job isn’t to save her or express your anguish, but to make life comfortable for her, regardless of how you feel.

Look for ways to entertain her or, at least, to keep yourself entertained while keeping her company. As long as she can benefit from your love and presence, give her what you can.

If you’re crying or raging inside, take pride in your ability to keep your pain to yourself while doing what’s right. If this were a screenplay, that’s the way to be the hero.

STATEMENT:
“I can’t help feeling frustrated and deeply unhappy with the passive, limited person my wife has become, but I know it’s not her fault and that she doesn’t deserve pushing or punishment. I’ll take pride in showing her the same kindness I would have expected her to show me, and even greater pride in shielding her from my sorrow and anger.”

My mother wasn’t the nicest person, so when she got cancer, no one was eager to take care of her, but someone had to, so I moved in and did what was necessary. In the end, I had to give up my job, salary and benefits, but my mother promised to make it up to me in her will, so I didn’t worry. Well, she died and left nothing but debts. I realize now she was a compulsive spender who lived in a fantasy world. What I can’t get over, however, is how angry I feel at this legacy of my giving, her taking, and me being totally screwed.

Unless our parents are nice and fair (and many nice, fair parents are not so nice and fair when they get old and demented), we can’t expect them to respect our needs as well as we respect theirs. Of course, even if we know our parents are exploitative and self-centered, we like to pretend that they’ll be fair to us if we’re good to them, because that makes the world safe and manageable.

In your case, you probably knew your mother’s flaws but wanted to believe she’d reward you in the end for being good. Instead, you now have an opportunity to grow up.

Fortunately, you have the innate impulse to be a good kid, regardless of whether your mother is an Asshole (meaning, as you know, that she has a right to use you in any way she pleases and, if you don’t like it, it’s your fault). I’m guessing you would have taken care of her, regardless of her promised will; you just wouldn’t have expected anything in return and your compromises might have been different.

Don’t blame her for being an Asshole or yourself for being a chump. She couldn’t help being who she was and you should respect yourself for being a good person. In addition, you are now a more realistic person thanks to her final maternal lesson.

Your illusions used to protect you from the pain of seeing your mother the way she was, but now you see that it’s more important to bear the pain so you can deal effectively with the reality.

So don’t be surprised that you feel angry at your mother and at life in general, and don’t expect those feelings to go away any time soon. Indeed, avoiding those feelings caused your trouble before and you don’t want to do that again. If you can accept those feelings, and life as it is, and keep on being the good person you’ve always been, then you will truly have overcome your mother’s legacy.

STATEMENT:
“I feel like a tired, used sucker, but I know I did right by my mother and that I, literally, saved her life and gave her a good death. Unfortunately, facing the fact that she was an Asshole has left me feeling angry and cynical about life. I won’t let these feelings change my values or lower my respect for the kindness I showed her.”