primarycaregiver2022

  Last evening two of my brothers took me for a short sailing excursion on English Bay. This morning Mom was sleeping after her morning juice and tea. I happened past her room and noticed she was awake. When I entered her room I could see she had her hand gently covering the lump in her neck. The wind was light and we spent part of our time drifting quietly on the glassy sea. She said, quietly, "I want it to go away now."  I pulled out my pens and small drawing book. All I can manage these days is a quick sketch. I replied, "There is a course of treatment, but it means you will need to go into the hospital." In the distance Point Grey extended northwest, a giant freighter rested on the horizon and a solitary kayaker paddled for the harbour. She shook her head, "No, not that."  I replied, "Today will be our best day ever." We are adrift. We have never been here before. We don't know where we are headed. We are in this together. I said, "I...

  Now that the excitement of family visits and gatherings has eased off, I have started broaching the topic of what it means to have our life come to an end with Mom. We now have confirmed that she has cancer in her lymph nodes in her neck and the next step would be implementing a course of treatment, which would include further diagnostics with an MRI scan. The MRI scan would mean hospitalization, sedation and getting up on the machine table. All of these steps would be extremely difficult for Mom and entail risks to her current health and well being.  When we discussed the option of treatment a couple of weeks ago, she was dead set against it. She does not want to go into a hospital. The MRI would only be the least invasive step for treatment, which would also likely require surgery and chemotherapy. It is highly unlikely that Mom would survive the treatment.  My approach to broaching the topic of what comes next is about how we prepare for Mom's declining health. What ...

We got news last week that Mom's health is declining from an additional challenge. We have been processing the news in our quiet way, going about the routines of each day, knowing that our time is limited by cycles of life and death beyond our control. What does success mean to you? For me, historically, it meant that I was going to do something exceptional, that I would be famous, that I would be wealthy, that my work would be seen as exemplary of high human achievement. Today I am re-calibrating what success means to me. It is not about some exalted, grandiose intervention that will change the course of human history. No. It is about looking after my Mom in her final days and learning about worms, microorganisms, soil, and growing food in shaded gardens. These might seem like disconnected endeavours, but it turns out they are intimately bonded. Today success means being inquisitive, constant, and kind. It means understanding the depth of life forces and the breadth of life fo...