Tuesday, June 3, 2014
Stay with me on this, I vacillate a lot.
My trust and belief in G-d is at an all-time low, skepticism taking the place of faith. Not just because of my own horrific, endless, intractable, indescribable, take-my-breath-away pain. But because of my dad’s horrific, endless, intractable, indescribable take-his- breath-away pain. He expressed doubt about G-d to me yesterday; the first time ever in the 60 years I’ve been alive. He has hospice care now, but my brother just doesn’t get it about managing his pain. He keeps telling me they are “doing everything” possible. But until you have had ONE BREATH of this life, there is no way in hell to understand it. Just like I don’t understand about living in a war-torn region or experiencing any of the other horrors that ravage this planet, this life. Nothing helps. Nothing. No breaks longer than 15 minutes, tops, and only then if I’m distracted by something (like reading the horrible news of the day) though it’s harder to distract myself because the pain is so all consuming. Maybe I shouldn’t be so graphic but hey, the truth is the truth, and this is mine. I’m not good at pretending right now.
I can’t imagine being further punished if I choose to end my life myself but then again, why this pain now? Without a body, I would hopefully be out of pain. That’s what everyone says, eh? “At least he/she isn’t in pain anymore” Right. Like “they” know. No one knows nothin’, honey. I’m leaning more and more toward Stephen Hawking’s way of thinking, who I mention in several of my posts. I just want to take every single pill in my arsenal and go to sleep. But I am terrified I’ll do it wrong and end up WORSE if that’s possible, so I wait.
My dad. We are so close, something we weren’t when I was younger. But we are now. Now he gets it big time. And for that, I am dreadfully, painfully (no pun intended) sorry. Not sorry that we are close; for that I am grateful. His pain makes my pain worse. And like everything else in life, you often have to personally experience something to fully understand it. And before his health hit the fan, before his spinal stenosis, he grew impatient with me, thinking I could “do something” to earn a living. I did for many years, but had to stop at about 40.
It’s my dad’s agony that tears me apart, limb by limb. And I have to look for signs that G-d hears my pleas for help (for him). And in the midst of this breakdown of my spirit, I started thinking of my paternal grandmother, Ida, whom I have written about on this blog and who has been with me in spirit since I was 22. She died when I was 11 (and told me never to fear death) and had left me one of her diamonds from her ring to be given to me when I was 16. My parents had it made into a pendant, and I wore it nonstop until I was 22, when it was stolen out of a hospital dressing room (I had taken it off for an X-ray). I cried my eyes out for hours, and suddenly heard her quite clearly in my head (as a thought, not a voice) saying “you don’t need the necklace to have me near you” It jarred me out of my psychic pain and I have felt her near me ever since.
Last night I thought of her and I said “Your boy needs help”. I don’t know why those particular words came from my head but they did. So I told her how much pain he was in and how much help he needs and to please help if you can. Well I spoke to my dad this morning and he told me my brother and his whole family stopped by last night for a visit. “That gave me a lift” he said. I told him I was glad to hear it. It wasn’t until I hung up that I remembered my request. Would they have shown up anyway? Probably. But I like to think my thoughts carried to G-d, who carried it to my brother…all on the wings of that butterfly.
And then the pain comes and everything I thought previously seems ridiculous.
Posted by Sherri at 10:33 AM