It's funny how so often we fail to appreciate something until it's gone. For the last few weeks, my wife Norma's family has been holding a vigil by her grandmother's bedside as she fades in and out of consciousness. At 91 years old, Mami Andrea, as she's affectionately called, has lived a full life, but the day we have all dreaded may be coming soon, when we finally have to say goodbye to her. And so we wait, and we watch over her. We hold her frail hand, we kiss her furrowed brow, caress her long silver hair and care for her as she cared for so many of those who now surround her.
I was fairly young when each of my grandmothers passed away, and I never really had an opportunity to know my grandfathers, so it has been an unusual experience for me. I've never watched someone as they lay dying. It's heart wrenching to see them so helpless, and to watch those left behind who are trying to come to terms with this loss. I hate to see anyone in pain.
It has made me think of my own family. In particular, it has forced me to look at my parents, and face this reality that they will not always be here. Two years ago, my dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, and to say it was a bit of a shock to the system is an understatement. It's not that we didn't know already that something was going on. The symptoms were clear long before the diagnoses. But to give a name to that suspicion was quite devastating. It made that inevitability of death feel that much more real.
In the time that has passed since, each of us have learned to accept these facts, and tried our best to support both my mother and father. In some ways, it is harder for those who live with this person that has been given such a diagnosis, than for the person themselves. I think Dad has accepted it finally, and begun to learn to live with it. His spirits seem high when I see him, though I know this is not always the case.
Having grown up the youngest of seven kids, I was always used to being surrounded by my family growing up, for better or worse. There were certainly times when I wanted them all to leave me alone. But now that we have all grown up and moved on to have families of our own, it's harder and harder to find that togetherness we once had. It's difficult to think about, but I sometimes have considered, how many more times will I have to spend with my mother and father, brothers or sisters before they're gone? When I consider that I see some of them only once a month, a few times a year, or less, it makes me want to drop what I'm doing and organize a family reunion. But realistically, we have to live our lives, wherever that may take us.
I had an opportunity to give my parents their first digital camera this Christmas, with the hope that they might take more photos to preserve the memories that these days are becoming increasingly precious. Whenever I look back at all the old photos, I think of how this record of our past still seems so real to me, like few things in life. It pains me to think of things that have gotten in the way of being together as a family. Distance, career, kids, the responsibilities of daily life and sometimes these little rifts that pop up in every family.
When you look at the frailty of life, and consider how it can be taken from us in a split second, at any time, any place, it forces us to take stock and reconsider our priorities. Now that the holiday season has come and gone, I hope that each of you had an opportunity to get away from the distractions of daily life, even for a few hours, to be with those family and friends that are dear to you. As our lives become busier and there are more of those distractions, hopefully it won't take a holiday or an illness to remind us throughout the year just how precious these people in our lives truly are.
I was fairly young when each of my grandmothers passed away, and I never really had an opportunity to know my grandfathers, so it has been an unusual experience for me. I've never watched someone as they lay dying. It's heart wrenching to see them so helpless, and to watch those left behind who are trying to come to terms with this loss. I hate to see anyone in pain.
It has made me think of my own family. In particular, it has forced me to look at my parents, and face this reality that they will not always be here. Two years ago, my dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, and to say it was a bit of a shock to the system is an understatement. It's not that we didn't know already that something was going on. The symptoms were clear long before the diagnoses. But to give a name to that suspicion was quite devastating. It made that inevitability of death feel that much more real.
In the time that has passed since, each of us have learned to accept these facts, and tried our best to support both my mother and father. In some ways, it is harder for those who live with this person that has been given such a diagnosis, than for the person themselves. I think Dad has accepted it finally, and begun to learn to live with it. His spirits seem high when I see him, though I know this is not always the case.
Having grown up the youngest of seven kids, I was always used to being surrounded by my family growing up, for better or worse. There were certainly times when I wanted them all to leave me alone. But now that we have all grown up and moved on to have families of our own, it's harder and harder to find that togetherness we once had. It's difficult to think about, but I sometimes have considered, how many more times will I have to spend with my mother and father, brothers or sisters before they're gone? When I consider that I see some of them only once a month, a few times a year, or less, it makes me want to drop what I'm doing and organize a family reunion. But realistically, we have to live our lives, wherever that may take us.
I had an opportunity to give my parents their first digital camera this Christmas, with the hope that they might take more photos to preserve the memories that these days are becoming increasingly precious. Whenever I look back at all the old photos, I think of how this record of our past still seems so real to me, like few things in life. It pains me to think of things that have gotten in the way of being together as a family. Distance, career, kids, the responsibilities of daily life and sometimes these little rifts that pop up in every family.
When you look at the frailty of life, and consider how it can be taken from us in a split second, at any time, any place, it forces us to take stock and reconsider our priorities. Now that the holiday season has come and gone, I hope that each of you had an opportunity to get away from the distractions of daily life, even for a few hours, to be with those family and friends that are dear to you. As our lives become busier and there are more of those distractions, hopefully it won't take a holiday or an illness to remind us throughout the year just how precious these people in our lives truly are.
