My dad almost died the night before last. He lives in San Diego, by himself in a small apartment. We have to have a cleaning lady come in to keep the apartment since on his own, he'll leave trash, food, whatever to rot. The neighbors complained, so we got some help.
She discovered him laying in blood soaked sheets, nearly bled out.
A massive heart attack a few months ago meant a shunt and dialysis three times weekly for failing kidneys, and when the doctors began to worry about infection from the dialysis working its way to his heart, they put in some new hardware last week.
Apparently, he didn't like it, and pulled it out, and in the process lost about 1000ccs of blood, maybe more. The average human body has 4000-5000ccs.
If you've been following the blog here, you know the relationship with my dad is complicated, to put it mildly. He's just never been there- not in my childhood, or my adulthood- not showing up to my wedding, or even a visit we had set up so he could meet my wife and children.
Generally speaking, whenever "Dad" stuff comes up, my back begins to spasm, my muscles clench and I can feel myself drifting towards fight or flight.
But today, I'm doing ok. Better than okay, really.
I got the news yesterday just before heading in to sit with the guy who's doing spiritual direction with me- probably about the best timing imaginable. "Providential" might be the word.
As I processed with Morris some of the pain around the idea that my aunt and uncle who've been caring for my do-nothing dad for years now have reached the end of their ability to be involved and in charge of his existence, and that I was being called on to step in, I felt some of the old tightening in my back, some of the anger begin to rise up at the idea that I would be expected to care for someone who has worked hard to cultivate a practiced indifference to me and my life.
But as we talked, as some of the knots began to untangle, I realized- actually, I'm not angry. I'm not worried. I'm... calm. At peace.
How could this be?
Early yesterday morning, meeting with some guys, I was talking about the growth that has happened for me over the last year. And how I've had a growing feeling that in some ways, God was preparing me to deal with some hard things and that they were coming soon.
This morning as I sat, before the family or even the sun rose, with my Bible, my prayer journal, a good book to stretch me, I realized- part of my calm right now is simply a result of having cultivated through the discipline of meeting with God on a daily basis, a trust in Him that actually makes in difference when it comes to dealing with the crap life throws at you.
Of course, that's always been the theory hasn't it? But over the last 24 hours, I've seen it play out in real time. No- I'm not saying I've "arrived" in any sense of the word. I am saying that the disciplines matter. I feel like a guy who's been running a mile a day for the last year and is suddenly called on to do a 10k... and finds it not easy, but easier than expected.
As I ended with Morris yesterday, we prayed. And as we prayed, he asked me to picture Jesus entering the room with my dad. I pictured Him walking into the tiny bedroom that my dad has chosen to be his world for the last nearly ten years, and sitting on the bed next to him, putting an arm on his shoulder, telling him He loved him, was sorry for his wasted life, but still... wanted to redeem and renew him, his life.
What, Morris asked, was Jesus saying to me and to my dad?
My aunt and uncle aside, I realized, I'm about the only Jesus my dad is going to see. Jesus may say those things to my dad, but He'll be using my mouth to do it. He may put an arm around him, but it will be mine.
By the same token, I know- Whatever I give my dad has to come from a place of grace, which is good, because to be honest, the only love I have for him is the love of Jesus. But then again, that's more than enough.
At the same time I felt God telling me to be Jesus to my dad, I also sensed Him telling me- just remember, you're NOT Jesus. You don't have to die for this man. Someone Else already did that. There's a definite limit to what I can and should do here.
So here's where I'm at- I'm going to work with adult services to do what I can to get my dad the best possible available, some assisted living so he can live out his days in the solitary he desires. But I don't think I can do more than that- I don't think we'll be running up hundreds of thousands in debt to prolong an existence he doesn't seem very committed to himself for another year or two. I can't sacrifice myself or my kids education to help someone who seems entirely uninterested in helping himself, and has always seemed that way. I'm not going to put my family at risk to do it. "Compassionate detachment" is the phrase in my head and oxymoronical as it seems, I think that about captures it. Even without drowning in the details and effort of propping up a failed life, I can show my dad love, show compassion, help him as I can and show him Jesus in the process.
That feels about right. A little back-tightening... but mostly, peace.
It's going to be an interesting month, though...
Wow. You can do it Bob. I'm praying for you.
Posted by: Joe | January 30, 2009 at 10:41 AM
Dang, man. I can't even imagine how difficult this is.
I will be praying for you and your family.
Posted by: Matt | January 30, 2009 at 10:42 AM
Great post, don't know you - but I'll be praying for you. Particularly liked the bit about the disciplines preparing you for a moment like this - so true.
Posted by: ianmcn | February 02, 2009 at 03:29 AM