Spend The End

In the 70’s growing up, I always loved the singing group Bread. So many of their songs were tender ballads and were a salve for my soul when I was experiencing difficulties with either my surroundings or coming of age decisions. They crooned me into a peacefulness and helped me reset. One song came to mind this morning, the song “If”. There is a section of the verse that says:

If a man could be two places at one time, I’d be with you,

Tomorrow and today, beside you all the way.

If the world should stop revolving spinning slowly down to die,

I’d spend the end with you.

I thought about those lyrics this morning, and shed a little tear. You see, my Dad is 80 years old and in, what appears to be, the last stages of Parkinson’s disease. That is a difficult thing to see in print, but true nonetheless. Parkinson’s is not an easy disease. It is harsh, lingering, as the symptoms and issues tend to play hide and seek. One day Dad is more than lucid, recalling events, people and places that I can’t conjure up easily. Other days he is confused and withdrawn, often hallucinating from the meds and in chronic pain. Breathing is with much effort, swallowing is strenuous with the tiniest food pieces, sleep is his constant companion due to fatigue trying to accomplish the simplest of tasks. He is a shell, in many ways, of the man he once was. Those caring for him, primarily my 80 year old mother since he is still at home at this writing, have to be on ready at all times to respond at a moment’s notice to whatever scenario the disease may present as the days move forward. My dad could be with us 10 days or 10 years, we have no way of knowing God’s timetable. So we try and give him the comfort we can, and we wait. He is remembering himself in scenes of the past, but he is living out the not so pretty scenes of the present. At times it can be very painful to watch his physical and emotional struggles and hear his frustration come out in the many hard words he speaks to each of us and others now. But we keep in mind he is spending his end in two places, as the song lyrics say.

The last several weeks have seen Dad admitted to the hospital, going through several tests, then procedures, and he has not been a happy camper. There is belligerence at times, again due to the disease in some part, and my dad has always been strong willed, so there’s that playing into his care presently. He is not always kind in speech, he is not always aware of his surroundings completely, he is frightened, and he is trying to grasp his ending.

And Mom is there.

She tends to his needs, listens to his griping and fussing, brings him clothing when his others are in need of washing. She has health issues of her own, so caretaking is more difficult than it would be if she had a strong body herself. If he is released from the hospital, he may go back home this next week. He cannot walk on his own. He requires 24/7 care now and he cannot take care of himself, so his personal care will fall in large part to mom. But she has decided, as long as she can physically and emotionally do what he needs, she will spend his end with him.

I have thought much lately of the way I chose to spend my beginnings. Not always a good choice was made, and it is sad to think about this as I watch my parents and their current struggle to maintain their relationship in the face of something they cannot control like this illness. I found my past self not always giving my time and effort to the best people or groups of others. My focus during my beginning was  squandered, investing in things and people that would not be able to make it to the end with me, nor I with them.

Hardship is definitely a tough teacher. Observing challenging circumstances of others becomes the teaching aids during our own learning curve of life. I am 60, no spring chicken, but today I am more and more seeing the value in choosing who and what I draw into my own life, both in the way of experiences and also companions. Each choice I make will reflect on who and what I  “spend the end with”. When I come to my last moments on this earth, I hope to be passing my time with those who want to spend their own end with me as well. In these days or years or moments leading up to my end, I want to embrace my mission to practice love and kindness toward those who are investing in me. I want others to heartily desire to spend my end with me, not just help me survive it. If so, I can say with the writer of Ecclesiastes, “Better is the end of a thing than the beginning…” and I will be so grateful for the blessing of peace that will come when I finally and quietly lay this old body down.