When I started writing this blog, I said you would know very little about me, and I aim to keep to that promise. However, today’s topic would not have come about if my father was not, on this day, his 81st birthday, mentally and physically fading away from the effects of Alzheimer’s Disease.
No, this is not going to be a blog paying tribute to my Dad and reminiscing about the good times we had. It’s more about how some of us have views on issues when we are as far away from understanding them as Oprah Winfrey is of becoming the first female Pope.
Euthanasia is one of those debates that rages on and on, and we are still no closer to developing common ground after all these years. Those who have strong opinions against it are probably people who have never seen a loved one in pain, or watched that loved one’s quality of life diminish to the point that they are skin, bone, muscle, and blood cells, but not much more.
My father was lucky. He had 80 good years before his decline came at a rapid pace, and it still continues today. Even though he is a devout Catholic, if I could bring him back from the past to sit and let him watch himself now, he would have 6 simple words to say: “Aw, bloody hell, just shoot me.” There would be no doubt in my mind he would say this, despite his religious views. To me, and to us around him, his life is over. It was over for me when I saw him last July and that ‘twinkle’ had gone from his eyes; that spark that said he was very much alive, and ’switched on’. But now, as he sits in a nursing home, with round the clock care, and even has to wear a pad constantly so he doesnt soil himself, it’s now that I truly understand why people know when it’s time to die.
Yes, I understand that authorising to take someone’s life is akin to murder, and it’s not that I want to knock Dad off, but it makes one look at what ‘life’ is. He isn’t going to get better. He remembers less and less each day, and is quickly becoming a vegetable. He has mentally deteriorated so much that his young grandson and granddaughter don’t want to see him. Not because they don’t love him. They find this scary old man not the same loving grandfather that once tickled them, hugged them, laughed with them and loved them with as much love as a grandfather could. But those who are against ending one’s life with dignity will have no idea how painful it is to watch someone you love go through that, and they simply work on the theory of “it’s immoral, it’s illegal, and you have no right.” If they did, mark my words, their views would change.
There is no dignity in what Dad is going through. Being spoonfed like a baby by his wife of over 40 years is not dignity. Like the powers that be in Washington having ’sympathy’ for the men and women fighting in Iraq, and ‘feeling for the mothers and fathers whose children are serving’, whilst they are making sure their kids never see battle (i.e Mitt Romney), empty too are the words of moralistic anti-euthanasia supporters who work off a pamphlet and not gut feeling, balanced emotion, and perception.
Like the question “what would you do in …… situation?” We don’t know. None of us do. And we should all keep an open mind until that time comes; if it ever comes. Because only then will we know just where we truly stand.
Enjoy your day….and Happy Birthday Dad.
