Too much perspective

I spoke to a friend yesterday whose father was just diagnosed with cancer, and another friend today whose father-in-law just died last week. The second friend, the one who just lost her father-in-law, said that he had been in the hospital but had been improving and was planning on coming home. The night before he was to be released, he died, instantly, in his sleep. That was a source of comfort to my friend and her husband, as was the fact that her mother-in-law had also died a couple of years ago. “Even though my husband feels like an orphan,” she said, “at least he knows that his dad and mom are together now.”

It’s funny, in a sad way, to hear about a forty-year-old man feeling like an orphan. I have an image of this man, a rather large man, wearing knickers and tatty shoes, with a smudged face and an entreaty for more porridge. “Please, suh, may I have more?” But I get it. Every week it seems that I hear about another friends’ parent who is sick, or updates about those who have been sick and are declining. My own parents have had some serious health scares during this past year. If the phone rings at an odd time, I jump, wondering if this will be the call that everyone gets eventually, the one that tells you that you are an orphan.

I’m at that age where this is becoming increasingly likely. I’m also at that age where I’m starting to understand and respect who my parents are as people, not just as aids (or impediments) to my own well-being. Maybe this isn’t an age thing but just a maturity thing. Whatever it is, it’s disorienting, frightening, and liberating at the same time. No more excuses. No more blaming them for my own failures and insecurities (although they do still deserve some credit for the good things that have come my way). It’s all on me.

Ok, now I’m getting depressed thinking about my parents dying, and I don’t want them to ever read this and know how much I think about it. What I do want them to know, though, is that I am enjoying getting to know them as fellow adults. As with any friendship, it has been a trying as well as a rewarding relationship, but definitely more rewarding than it was in the past. I have seen both of my parents incredibly scared at times over the past year. I have seen them vulnerable and in need of help. They have seen close friends and family members die and have faced their own mortality head-on. I’ve also seen them emerge from their challenges stronger and more at peace than they were before, perhaps ever were in their adult lives. Too much f***ing perspective can do wonders for the soul.

My mom just sent me a little spiritual book called “Acceptance” that she told me changed her life. The theme of the booklet is the “Serenity Prayer”: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I can’t change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” Basically, if you can’t change what bothers or upsets you, then learn to live with it and ask God to help. We can’t change the fact that our parents will eventually die, that we will all eventually be orphans, at least technically. But, we can learn to accept our own place in this world as adults. We can accept the baton that they are passing to us and head (slowly) towards the finish line, striding on our own two feet.