I had dinner with my dad tonight. Chicken salad sandwich, green beans, a banana, some fruit juice and coffee. Nothing exceptional, except that it came on a tray; in a cafeteria. And my father ate it as he sat in his wheelchair in a nursing home.
Dad’s health has been slowly declining. Losing the battle against Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s disease. It’s been about a year since I’ve seen him, and the decline was stunning. I felt like it’d been kicked in the gut. He’s pretty much completely non-verbal now. He’s unable to stand or walk, drools uncontrollably, has difficulty sitting up straight, and moans on every exhaled breath. But he’s IN there. Long periods of distant stares are suddenly punctuated by a word, a hand reaching out with purpose, an appropriate facial expression or that focused stare.
I cried today. A lot. I cried for the sadness of his current health. I cried for the unknown amount of time I have left with him. I cried for all the pain and hardship his wife has gone through dealing with this. I cried as I realized all the missed times and opportunities. And I cried as I wondered if I was looking at my future self. Tears ran down my cheeks as I helped him put his juice back on the tray. Tears filled my eyes and ran over my nose as I wiped food from his mouth and nose like I did a thousand times for my kids when they were babies.
As he ate I looked around at the other residents and staff. Again I cried. Each of them eating alone with difficulty, fading from their earthly forms. I wondered what they were before this. I know what my father was and how alive he was. So I tried to pick which resident shuffling past me might have been a doctor, or teacher, or a mother, or a scientist?
I cried in embarrassment for the way I thought about nursing home patients and staff when I was a paramedic. I saw amazing, beautiful acts of simple kindness tonight. I saw staff holding a hand. I saw staff directing a confused resident with care and compassion. I saw staff help a resident put on shoes and a sweater. Acts that a young man couldn’t appreciate at the time, but his older self, suddenly confronted with the reality that these staff are caring for HIS father, came to appreciate very quickly.
My dad lives in NY. I live in Atlanta. I’m not sure when I can see him again. But I know that even though this trip was disruptive to my personal and business life, it was worth it. Totally and completely worth it. I spent good time with him, sharing stories and memories, updating him about our lives, and what the kids are doing. At one point, while I was telling a story about my son, he laughed. And I heard the “old” him for a brief, precious moment. I will cherish that laugh forever.
So how does all of this tie back into a lesson on Taekwondo? “Be loving and show fidelity to your parents.” This is one of the Taekwondo rules of Mental Education based on the ancient Hwarang, commandments. The Hwarang (which loosely translates to "Flowering Youth or Knights") were an elite group of male youth in Silla, (an ancient Korean kingdom) who were trained in martial arts as well as culture and artistry. It means appreciate your parents and what they do for you. What they have done for you, and what they will and would do for you. Reach out to them, say thank you, and tell them you love them.
“Courtesy”, is one of the five tenets of Taekwondo. Be nice to people. ALL people. Regardless of… well…everything. Just be nice and treat everyone with dignity and respect no matter who or what they are. As Taekwondo people, we must always try to live by these simple rules.
So until the next time I see you on the mat….go call, visit, Skype, text, FaceTime, email, or write your parents!
