Learn To Let Go

We woke this morning with a lack of confidence in getting my dad to go to his surgery. The stroke took his ability to speak, but he has learned how to say yes and no. Last night, when we reminded him of the operation, he repeatedly said no, that he didn’t want to go. We dropped it.

This morning, we woke him up hoping he had changed his mind. You see, he needs this surgery. His aortic valve is 95% blocked and he’s a major heart attack away from passing. But this morning we were met with a stern no. Tensions grew as the time to leave crept closer and we kept going back into his bedroom to see if something had changed, but it hadn’t.

Our biggest fear going into this was wondering whether or not he understood the importance of this surgery. If he understood the risks of not having it done. But this morning, it was very clear that he understood.

Amidst the crying and pleading for him to go, I asked him one very simple question. Do you want to die? I regret asking the question, because the answer wasn’t what I wanted to hear.

You may be asking yourself, “but what about him?” And you’re right. I had made this all about me. What happens when I lose him? What am I supposed to do when he’s gone? I had forgotten what this was like for him.

All of the doctor visits, all of the tests, all of the home-care people in and out of our house. I had forgotten about what he is going through. And he’s tired.

That is what’s hard about acceptance… accepting defeat and giving up. But what if it wasn’t about defeat and giving up? What if it was about celebrating his life up to this point, and enjoying what time we have left with each other? My selfishness and ego had crept up and made it about myself.

After we accepted that he wasn’t going to go and we called to cancel the surgery, my mom and I sat out in the living room and just cried. We had finally seen what we’d been neglecting to see the whole time. He’s done. He’s accepted it. Now why shouldn’t we?

There’s a fine line between being a caretaker and wanting what’s best for my father and it becoming about what I want, rather than what he wants.

This is the lesson of this morning: Even when you know what’s best for someone, they have their own way of doing things based on their experiences and their feelings and I have to learn to respect that.

Dad, I respect it.