Saturday, August 21, 2004

The American Attitude Within Us

What I am going to say will piss some people off. Some people will be offended, others will be hurt. I am not writing to piss people off, nor am I wanting to offend -- but ultimately and unfortunately -- I will cause hurt.

My purpose is to express my anger and to let my community know how I feel. But foremost, to shed light on the last year of my life, and my school of thought(s).

Here we go:

My mother and I were talking this morning about my father. Its always an interesting subject when we talk about him. Conversation about him are usually filled with sighs of relief, laughter, acknowledgement of pain and a sense of honorable duty (aka love).

During the last 6 months of my father's earthly life, my mother and I were bombarded with people's opinions on what to do with him. A prevalent attitude went something like this: "you can't keep going like this...you need to consider hospice." Others would say "we're here for you", but then they would never show up. Some stood by our side and served us with sadness and joy in their hearts (just as we are all called to do).

The issue I most want to address today is the prevailing American Attitude Within Us on hospice. I've come to learn that most people see hospice as a first resort when dealing with a terminal condition. At the outset, I want people to know that I am not against hospice. I understand the wonderful acts of mercy that they show and for that I appreciate hospice.

However, I do have anger, but my anger is not toward hospice. Rather, it is toward the American Attitude Within Us about hospice. The attitude that sees hospice as the first and only option. The attitude that CHOOSES not consider other available options. Admittedly, these other options come at a great sacrifice to those who choose them.

When my mom and I speak of my father and people's attitudes toward him and his care takers --namely my mother and I -- all in the guise of "consider your own sanity", I become very angry. I come to the point of having no other words on my venomous tongue than "Fuck that....what a fucking selfish attitude....that's a bunch of shit!"

Those words are the expression of my anger. I apologize for them and at the same time, make no apologies for them.

I don't understand why the American attitude is so bent on only seeing the option of hospice as being the only option. I believe that American's DO realize that there are other options out there. Options such as taking on the burdening task of being the care taker; or pleading with their community for help in a variety of ways. But these "other" options are mere fleeting thoughts, disipitating into the recesses of their minds. So, the only option available to them is hospice.

For those who see hospice as the first and only available option, my soul hurts for you. It hurts because those typically are the people who CHOOSE to not leave their well padded, well cushioned lives.

Those not wanting to leave their well padded, well cushioned life are the ones I primarily address these words to. These people share a similar ideology as those who on numerous occasions challenged us to consider hospice.

The challenge set before us always came packaged so nice and neat. The package had a pretty ribbon bow on top, and glittery wrapping paper hiding the ugliness of the package that lay inside. The package always centered around the idea of "considering Felix's condition and considering our own sanity."

Many of you wonder why that was such a bad thing to advise or why do you (Ramon) take such offense at that suggestion?

Very simply put, my father was not dead yet. There was fight in his eyes. His soul spoke to us through his eyes, through his grunts and through his complete being that he was still very much alive. He was not dead yet. He was still alive.

Had we wanted to abandoned my father, the quickest and surest thing that would have killed him, would have been to place him in hospice. And when people, who all had good intention, came around offering their pretty shiny present, they did nothing more than frustrate us and complicate the issue.

Offering us their pretty package of advice, unbeknownst to them, is similar to David offering Uriah a place to lay his head while his men fought on the battle field. Like Uriah, we too declined the offer of laying our head. Had we laid our head for one moment, we would have abandoned my father in spirit and ultimately would have killed him.

I implore you to not mistake my words as a straight and complete comparison between David's sinister act to those people who offered us their shiny, pretty package. On the contrary, these people were most likely good hearted in their attempts to "alleviate" our pain. But had we followed the terms to alleviate our own pain, we would have done nothing more than heap coals on my father's head. To alleviate our pain would have resulted in causing my father's death.

Yes, it its true that my father is dead momentarily, and his death was an inevitable end. Just like my father, we will all have our end and make the transition, finally seeing the full Kingdom that we only partially see now.

So, since my father is dead, some may wonder what the difference is...he is dead. What's the big deal on hospice. Whether he was in hospice or not, he was still going to die.

The deal on hospice for us is "abandonment". How selfish of us it would have been to have abandoned my father in the name of "our own sanity." My father was unable to abandon his call, so why should have we?

I am sure I have confused some of you readers; others I have offended. Many of you are friends, some are acquaintances and others are distant family. If I have confused you, I apologize for that. I have hurt you, I too apologize for that.

One thing I ask, please do not leave this reading without any recourse. Please feel free to post your thoughts and comments.

With full confidence and love,

Ramon

Tuesday, August 10, 2004

Etta James

"At last" I have found time to reinsert the blog links to my friend's blogs. I apologize for their temporary deletion. When I changed blog templates, all custom template changed were deleted.

I have been fortunate to hang out with many of these days. I eagerly await to hang out with many more of you. I think a lot about you guys and gals. I can say that emotions does run through me that cause joy and tears of joy to manifest themselves within me.

I really, really appreciate all of you. I wish I could see you all more often. I wish I could spend more intimate time with you all more often.

This weekend

This weekend was a good and hard weekend. I spent much of my time with people at Neil T. Anderson's conference: Freedom in Christ (Counseling Discipleship).

I had some great interaction with Chris, Debbie and Neil. What a blessing and an honor to be with all three.

I was so encourage by Debbie. It was so nice to have someone identify and join me in mutual emotions on various issues. She also served us well by leading us into singing to Father. I love you, Debbie.

I was so encourage by Chris. We listened intently on what Neil was saying. We laughed, but we didn't cry :-) Chris and I had lunch together, that was fun. I love you, Chris.

I was so encouraged by Neil as well. Father blessed me with a desire of my heart to meet Neil. The entire weekend, I believe, was totally a God thing. Everything happened that needed to happened or so at least it seemed. I love you too, Neil.

Thursday, August 05, 2004

Long Days

Its 3:02 a.m. and I am still at work. I will be here till 4 a.m. and then back at 5:45 a.m.. Why go home? Exactly!

Tomorrow morning is going to suck even worse. Get up at 2 a.m. and test. Fun schedule. But its not that bad. I work with fun people.

The only unfortuante part is that my mom is at home all alone. Since my dad died, she doesn't like to be at home alone.

I have been sitting in this chair for 18 hours, periodically getting up mind you. My butt hurts. You think the extra cushion I have [that's a euphamism for I'm fat] would help out, but on the contrary, my butt almost feels rash. I think I may know how my father must have felt being confined in bed for many, many months. My poor dad used to get lots of rashes on his touche and his back. I love him, miss him and feel sorry for him. I have pitty for him

I miss you appa.

Love,

Ramon