The Gift of Being

 

In his tiny square room, we sit together quietly,

My dad and I.

He, slumped to the left in his reclining wheelchair

I, perched uncomfortably on the side of his bed.

The nursing home took away the chair for visitors

During the first year of the pandemic.

It never came back.

 

Almost ninety-five, he needs care

And help, to eat and dress and move.

His drinking fluids are thickened now

And spooned into his mouth.

The nurse gives me some thick fruit punch

In a plastic cup with a spoon

To “see if you can get some into him”.

He opens his mouth and I carefully spoon some in.

I am reminded of feeding my children

As babies.

It feels strangely familiar this resurrected skill.

This, I know how to do.

 

It is May and so his nose is running like a tap.

I wipe it and tell him to blow and he does.

I wait, spoon topped up, for him

To open his mouth once again.

The angle is wrong and red,

Thickened juice slides onto his shirt.

I wipe it up with large paper wipes

And wait again for another chance

To keep him hydrated.

 

I remember being told by my mother, that as a baby

I ate happily when he fed me.

But when my anxious first-time mother tried,

I vomited in a way she described as projectile.

My dad had a baby sister as a boy,

So perhaps he too resurrected the skill

While my mother was out of her depth.

I still can’t eat when I am anxious.

 

My dad fed me and now I feed him.

Reciprocity after more than six decades.

He played the piano to put me to sleep

And now I play him music on my iPod

To wake up his brain and bring some

Pleasure, perhaps some remembrance.

He played me the record, Peter and the Wolf

When I was a child and today

I played it for him on my iPod,

In this tiny room at the end of the hall.

 

Not everyone gets to experience

This kind of reciprocity,

This kind of gentle acceptance

Of life’s circle.

There is gift here, I sense it.

There is not much to do anymore

For this man who did so much.

I sit with him calmly, just being

Now that the doing is done,

In a timeless in-between space

With someone I have known

My entire life.

There is gift here, I feel the sacredness

Of just being.