Circle of Life

Life takes some crooked turns and you never know from day to day where you will end up. I am not loving life as it is right now as much as I did before. I know that there will be a light at the end of the tunnel, but until that peeks through the dark and dreary clouds, it is hard to know and understand the circle of life.

As many of you know, my aunt has been failing in health. Auntie’s prognosis last week was that they can do nothing for her. This has been my first encounter with a Palliative Team of doctors and then being introduced into the life of hospice. It was not what I was expecting when told that the hospital was having a Palliative meeting. I knew and thought I understood what palliative was as it stood by itself – a journey and process by which to make the patient comfortable before and/or after treatment no matter which way the diagnosis was leading. And that hospice followed a prognosis that was not good. At no time were we informed that this meeting would lead to talk of hospice, so it came as quite a shock. I was not entirely prepared for it, and neither had I looked ahead to know all that I could know about hospice before the meeting. I was probably in denial. I had fought a fight that I would not win. I didn’t like the outcome. If something, like hospice, for example, happens and I don’t know much about it, I immediately set forth to become educated. I need to know. I didn’t have the time nor the energy at this point to look into it. I was hitting the water not head on but with a belly-flop and it was going to sting.

Having Auntie transferred back to the nursing home with hospice to come on board and a prognosis of just few days remaining before life waned down and her journey forward to another life approaching, I was dumbfounded. I had to recharge so that I could move forward in as positive a manner as I could. Buoyed down with other hurdles in the road, I have now become diligent that I will do all that I can now that I have been defeated by the illnesses Auntie is suffering from.

I have nursed babies of all kinds back to health. When my sons were sick, I held, rocked, cuddled, and coddled until they were as good as new. I’ve done the same with my sisters when they were babies, as well as my nieces and nephews. I’ve held and fed kittens when they were sick and dying. I’ve sat down on the cold ground and tried to feed dying calves begging they would suckle just one more time on the bottle nipple to get enough milk in them to try to sustain them for another day or hour. I gave my dying father CPR. My oldest son gave a dying puppy CPR. I sat for hours and hours at the brain trauma unit after my sister’s car accident, watching the days go by praying that she would come out of a coma. I held her hand, I stroked her hair, I talked to her, just to try to coax an open eye. I tried to do as much as I could to help my mother after her car accident at the hospital and at rehab so that she would not be broken any more. I took charge of the care of my aunt when she had her heart surgery nursing her back to health. It’s in my nature and maybe I have passed that on, too. But, it’s also in my nature that I always want the outcome to be good, as it would be in anyone’s. It’s just not always possible and when it is not, it hurts. It stings.

It is nothing new for me to do it for my aunt now, again, when the waters were rough and I thought the storm would pass and all would be calm. I just am not or was not prepared for things to begin a downward spiral. As I said, I have now relinquished myself to make her next journey as peaceful and comfortable as possible.

I’ve also had my bouts with faith. I have always been a faithful person to God since I was little, but it is not to say that we haven’t had our ups and downs. When things have been awe-inspiring, I have turned to my faith. When things have not been, I have shied away – more so from the public outpouring of my faith, and not from the inward soul-searching of my faith. It has always been there. It is just sometimes hard to put it out there for everyone to see when I am unsure of life’s twisted and thorny roads. When the circle of life goes off keel, I tend to shut the door a little bit. Once the train is back on track, I open it back up again to let the sun shine in.

So, I am having a difficult time at the moment. I need to feel my nurturing instincts kicking in and that they are doing some good. So I sit and feed Auntie just a couple spoonfuls at a time when I visit, just enough to sustain life as long as she is not suffering. The suffering part I cannot take, but I will be strong, because I have told her I will be. She has told me many times lately that she loves me. The night before she was to be discharged from the hospital, and I was getting ready to leave, she told me that she will miss me. I told her I would miss her, too, but that I would be back in the morning to follow the ambulance and pick up her stuff. Obviously knowing that I missed the point or that maybe I was avoiding it, she said, “no I will miss you when I leave.” Knowing full well what she meant, I kissed her and told her I loved her and that I would miss her, too. I had to leave the room because up until this point I had been very strong. I didn’t want to hear those words but yet I did. I couldn’t stop the flood of tears as I walked out and drove home. I knew then at that point she was preparing for her journey. I just didn’t want to see her shutting the suitcase, standing at the train station and waving goodbye.

This weekend was a good weekend with all the family coming in to see her. Pastor Mark came and did communion for Auntie and the whole family. This was comforting to her and to me, also. Spiritually, I may be a mess and hanging in limbo right now, but Auntie is steadfast in hers. I’ll come back on board; it just may take me a little while.

The circle of life is an amazing thing when you look at it from the perspective of The Lion King. The animation draws you in and it never seems too harsh for one to handle. The real circle of life is a lot more bumpy, tossing you from side-to-side like the Titanic about to crash. I’m waiting for the calm after the storm, but yet I don’t want it to come either. I’m waiting for Auntie to be at peace, but I don’t want to lose her. She is tired and worn out. She needs a rest. I’m also tired out, but my rest will come when hers does – each to rest in different ways. I haven’t quite figured out the circle of life with all the properties it possesses. It is crude one moment and amazing the next; tiring and then energizing.

Right now, I need a fueling station with a pillow that also has a phone booth with good reception so I can check on Daddy from time-to-time, and Auntie when the time comes. Do you think Heaven accepts collect phone calls?