O Great Ones

On several trips to Africa in the 1970s and 80s, I came to understand and appreciate how the people of Tanzania honored and revered the elderly in their society. When a man reached an age that we would call Senior Citizen, he would be given an honorary title of "Mse" (pronounced "Umzay"). This is a title which cannot readily be translated into English in one word, for it means something like "O Great One", or "O Most Honored One", or "O Wise One". It is truly a title of distinction and reverence.

Perhaps this was so noticeable to me because it is something which has disintegrated in our own culture and society. With our cult of youth, we view the elderly in our midst as a burden, if not a down right disposable commodity. My eight years experience working as a nursing home administrator underscored this reality only too clearly. Many people were delivered to the care of our facility only to then be forgotten by their families. It was sad.

For this reason, it is such a gift for My Love and me to be back here in Iowa where we can be close to our parents. We have the opportunity to be in contact with them on a regular basis and to be of assistance to them when they need it.

In fact, I am so very proud of My Love and the care that she is providing for her parents. Not a day goes by that she isn't in touch with them. Most days she spends several hours with them, cleaning for them, shopping for groceries, taking them to doctor's appointments, taking them on outings, playing games with them. Some days she is with them all day doing whatever needs to be done to make it possible for them to stay in their own home comfortably.

She would say that this is no big deal, that it is a gift for her to be able to be for them at this time in their life after all they have done for her in previous years. But that is just the point: it is a big deal because it is not being done today in our society by younger generations. Most of our society would be more in tune with the Eskimo tradition of putting the elderly on an ice floe and letting them float away until they are frozen to death or eaten by polar bears.

Yet, here we are because of God's hand and direction in bringing us back home. Each day gives us more reason for gratitude. As I've said in an earlier blog, it's all about family!

"Here I Am And Nowhere Else"

This past weekend, My Love and I traveled to Omaha to visit with Marilyn, a member of our morning Bible Study from Idaho, who has been visiting her daughter and family. What a tremendous gift it was to spend time together, to share meals, fun and relaxation.

But the highlight of the weekend was the attendance on Friday evening at the lecture by Mark Gilbert and the ensuing visit to his art exhibit entitled "Here I Am and Nowhere Else" at the Bemis Center for Contemporary Arts on Saturday. Mark Gilbert is a Scottish artist who has worked with the Medical Center at the University of Nebraska-Omaha to complete a collection of sketches, paintings, woodcuts and other pieces, many life-size, of people dealing with illness, dying, healing and birth. This intersection of medicine and art has been an attempt to humanize the struggle that people find themselves in when living through circumstances that very often can be dehumanizing as well as discouraging and disheartening for both patients and their caregivers.

For me, it was a deeply touching and profoundly moving experience. As I viewed the various sketches and paintings, I came to several realizations. First of all, life is very, very fragile. The line between health and sickness can be crossed very suddenly at any age. Life can be turned upside down in a moment, and the best laid plans can be thrown aside with no forewarning. This certainly is a reminder of Who is in Charge of our lives at all times -- and it isn't me!

Secondly, the line between patient and caregiver is very often blurred. We are all caregivers at various times in our lives for others. We are also all in need of care from time to time. Sometimes these two callings overlap at the same time, or even in the same relationship. This is especially difficult for me because I find it much easier to give than to receive. This is partly true because when I am giving, when I am in the role of caregiver, I can at least feel like I am more in control than when I am on the passive, receiving end.

The third insight was the resiliency of people. The paintings and sketches of both patients and caregivers manifested the indomitable spirit that shined through in even the most seemingly hopeless situations. People confronted with terminal illnesses who refused to give up, refused to become their illness, but instead maintained their personhood, their personalities and their perspectives. This strength of spirit was evident in children, young adults and elderly people. In each case, they seemed to rise to the occasion presented by their illness, and even if they died as a result of it, they rose above it, conquered it and survived.

I have come away from this weekend with a greater desire to live life in its fullness each day, and day by day because we never know what tomorrow can bring. If I live life to the fullest today, and each day, then I will never have regrets at some future date. I also will not be plagued with worries about tomorrow, for tomorrow will take care of itself.

Finally, I find a need to be more gentle with others. Every person that I meet each day is also walking this tightrope between sickness and health, caregiver and patient, victim and survivor. Each one is somewhere on the spectrum of life-death whether he/she realizes it or not. By being more sensitive and gentle, I can afford them the opportunity of engaging their own humanity and living more fully their own journey.

What a blessing and a gift this past weekend has been! To cut through all the "stuff" of everyday life and get to the basics of life and death makes each moment more precious, and each person more valuable. Would that I could remain in this consciousness each day.