A Time for Compassion

As I have read friends' blogs (Aley and Michele) about their experiences in the presence of His Holiness the Dalai Lama last week, I thought of what I was doing on that same day.  How I would have loved to have been in that place with them, to see and to hear and to know the presence of a person who lives his unity with the Sacred.  I had to satisfy (hardly) myself with listening to an interview he gave on NPR yesterday evening, and I was thankful for that.

My day on Saturday was another of my usual trips, a two-hour drive south to visit with my aunt.  It was a difficult visit in some ways, not entirely unexpected, though.  I have shared about my aunt Ruth in earlier postings.  The last few months have brought more challenge, more pain, decreasing ability to communicate effectively, increasing complications and declining health. 

Something that might make the contrast of how she has changed and come so far away from the Aunt Ruth I've known all my life:  In my mother's family one always makes one's bed upon arising and never lie back down on it until going to bed at night.  One exception allowed, if one is so ill as not to be able to remain vertical.  Even that might have been debatable with some of those women at times.  When I arrived at the rehab hospital at 1:30 pm, my aunt was lying on her bed.  She had eaten only half a banana so far that day.  To say I was a bit surprised is to put it mildly.

Today I participated via phone in a conference with her caregivers, since the drive from my office to the rehab hospital would mean having to take almost an entire day from work, not a good idea at this time.  I'll need those times when I must take off soon enough.  For the first time I got a sense that at least a couple of the staff really do seem to care.  Sometimes I have wondered.  While I value their desire to help her function more effectively, to do things for herself we tend to take for granted, to have something of a life in the late part of her life, I think Aunt Ruth is cooperating with them more as a "go along to get along" means of managing.  With me she is honest and allows her pain and her weariness of living to show.

Next time I go, and every time thereafter I believe I'll be taking my native American flutes to play for her.