No Regrets; creating a better Hindsight!
I was thirteen years old when he had a heart attack. He was lying in the small circular patch of grass that divided the two roads in our neighborhood. No one knew what to do, except me. Everyone just stood around. Or maybe there wasn’t anyone. Maybe it was just me standing there. And now I had a choice. A choice that would change the course of my life in a direction I never anticipated. I could let him die or I could start CPR.
While waiting on the paramedics, I started performing CPR on my father. I’m sure it was only for a few minutes, but it felt like forever until someone more experienced arrived on the scene and took over. He was breathing they confirmed. His heart was beating irregularly but nonetheless, beating. The man in uniform looped a tube around his head placing a mask over my fathers mouth and nose, rolled him onto a stretcher and transported him to the local VA.
There, people were telling me I probably saved his life. He would be so proud of me. I should be proud of myself. But that isn’t how I felt. I wasn’t proud. I was angry. A deep rooted resentment that surfaced after making the choice to save him.
I have written about time. How fleeting it is. How our tomorrows become yesterday before we even realize it & what we do today will affect us in one way or another tomorrow. Which tomorrow you might wonder? I can’t say, nor can anyone predict.
My tomorrow came years and years later.
I was sitting in the lawyers office with my mother. His secretary showed us into a large conference room and asked if we wanted anything to drink. He would be with us shortly she stated. The room was quiet. My mother sat on one side and my eldest son on the other. A few minutes later a folder of documents was placed before me. The first document was a durable power of attorney naming my mother to make decisions on his behalf. That was normal. Then I read the next paragraph…. in the event she was not able or unwilling… I turned the page and read my name. Oh Hell No! Me? ME.
My heart started racing. Why me? What the hell was he thinking? I could name a dozen reasons why I, of all people, should not be the one to care for him. I should not make choices on his behalf. My youthful anger that had long ago subsided to a low simmer was now raging at full boil. I had dealt with ‘our’ life. Or so I thought.
The next 6 months proved to be heart wrenching. I witnessed the dominant influence in my life succumb to dementia. I witnessed his struggle in trying to understand what was happening to him. I watched the confusion in his eyes flicker between thankfulness to concern, sometimes convinced I was lying to him about events.
He was never mean to me nor was he ever violent. Because of those two realizations, I found myself fighting FOR him. Struggling to grasp my responsibilities versus my own emotions. Selfish emotions. But emotions I was entitled to feel and no one blamed me. I watched as he returned to a child-like state of mind. But before he regressed, he became my dad.
The day after Mothers day 2012 he had another heart attack. As I look back, I have zero regrets in my acceptance of responsibilities to be his voice. I did not use the powers granted to get back at him. Instead, I used it to love him. To love him again as I once did – innocently.
Sometimes life just doesn’t make sense. Sometimes things happen that we are not in control over and how we respond today determines our fate tomorrow. If you do not already, I encourage you to review your angle on life. Your next steps. Do you consider your tomorrows? Do you ponder what the future holds? I can honestly say I did and because I did, I look at yesterday and can genuinely smile.
I hope each of you gain what I consider now as my ‘gift’. To be able to look ahead just enough to ensure when you look back, you too can genuinely smile.
Til next time~
Domesticated Rebellion
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