Now and Then

I am changing my direction from the last blog slightly…

I recently prepared a reflection for a November memorial service for all who had died this past year at Trinity Manor. One of the readings chosen talked about how loss can feel like humiliation and I found that very relatable.  

Loss as we age can feel like disgrace and humiliation. For example, the loss one encounters when one retires, especially if you are not doing it freely. We can feel a sense of humiliation: have we done something wrong? Are we no longer valued? Are we being discarded? We experience humiliation sometimes when our bodies now need walkers to move, or we cannot remember things like we used to. We sometimes need others to help us with basic tasks, we can’t do it all on our own anymore.  Loss of ability can feel humiliating. Has God abandoned us because we seem to be losing so much? Isaiah tells the people: God will remove that disgrace, that humiliation. God will help you see the beauty of who you are just because you are. We are never a disgrace to God, we are God’s beloved in whatever shape or condition we find ourselves in. We can let that sense of disgrace or humiliation guide our lives, or we can let our lives be guided by God’s love and our human God-given dignity.

I found myself thinking about my Dad and the losses he moved through. I realized that I never heard him complain, nor do I ever feel that he was feeling humiliated for what was happening to him. Like all of us he had pride, yet in his final  years he did not let self-loathing connected to humiliation guide his life. After my Mom died he found on his own volition an assisted living home to move into. He moved into a small but sunny studio suite. His living space shrunk from a three bedroom house with a garage, garden, and wood shop. As he aged he relied on his walker more and more, and eventually parked his van for most of the year. Never did I hear him complain about those losses, never did I feel his heart being choked by a reduced sense of self worth because of what he could no longer do. He lived his life as fully as he could in the situations he now found himself. 

The moment we reduce our self worth, our God given dignity to what we can do versus who we are, I believe joy and life will be sucked from us. We mourn our losses but we do not stop living with dignity.

When my Dad died, it was beautiful to read a few cards from his care givers. They honestly enjoyed being around him, and he would often speak highly of them as well. The last time I spoke with my Dad on the phone was about 10 days before he died. He once again had lost more – three people at his table had died, his eyes were becoming more challenging, and there was some cancer taking root that needed attention. Yet, there was not a complaint, just a simple how good it is to talk with you…

May we begin each day with a grateful heart that says this is who I am and what I can do right now, and that is enough.