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Personal
Freedom
by Lynda Pogue
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My
family is close to putting our Papa into a Long Term Care
facility (Nursing Home) and we are torn apart doing it.
He’s a
glorious old gent who’s handsome and cute and sometimes grumpy
and who has had quite a history. He’s also suffering cognitive
problems and is slowly and continuously losing his memory and
problem-solving abilities. This was a man who used to invent
things, who studied Einstein, who engaged us in interesting
discussions. He worked his way from delivering papers to
becoming the successful owner of his own company with many
employees. He lost his wife, our Mama, to ALS (Lou Gehrig’s
Disease) 11 years ago and this took the wind out of his sails.
However he’s lived his life to the fullest over the last few
years. He is also a WWII veteran who fought for the kinds of
freedom that he himself has lived for all of his life and you
and I live today.
The folks at the Long Term Care facility thought they were
telling us something hopeful when they said he “can’t escape”.
It IS wonderful that we won’t
have to worry about the possibility of his falling on some
sidewalk somewhere or getting lost. And at the same time it’s
heart-wrenching. Whenever he feels like it, no more visiting
his dog where he has been lovingly housed since Dad went into
a Retirement Home.
No more
going for a walk anywhere he wants whenever he feels like it.
No more
going to the Dollar Store to see the latest bargain whenever
he feels like it.
No more
rummaging around that treasure-filled old bookstore whenever
he feels like it.
No more
taking a taxi to join his favourite harmonica group whenever
he feels like it.
No more
going anywhere just because he feels like it.
No more
personal freedom.
And this
will be because his own family took it away from him.
And
because he would not be safe otherwise.
Yes
he’ll have some wonderful programs and incredible care with
the trained nurses and staff who will be honoured to watch
over him.
And yes, he’ll be happy some (perhaps most) of the time. We
can only pray that happiness happens for him because we can no
longer get inside his mind like only his kids can do. The
phrase that keeps marching through my mind is “personal
freedom”.
I ache
at the thought of this being taken from him. From myself. From
anyone.
There
are many Boomers that are all approximately the same age and
this means that we all have parents about the same age. And
right now there’s collective weight that we feel on our
shoulders as we witness the deterioration of physical,
emotional and mental health in our loved ones. It’s tough.
So, dear
reader, I wonder if you might do me a favour?
Please
take this moment to savour the delicious freedom that you have
right this second.
What you
choose to do with the next moment, tomorrow, next week is your
own personal freedom. Make the most of it. Revel in it. Be
aware of the gifts inherent in it.
And, if you get the
chance, please take the time to thank an old war vet for the
privilege of the personal freedom you have.
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