Another way to see denial

It is clear that my Dad is afraid to die. He says he is not afraid to be dead but does not want to die. That makes sense to me.When he was in the hospital last week in lung failure he was sure that all of the DNR's and legal papers he had drawn up would allow him to die as he went unconcious. He was wrong. And quite angry when he woke up. So now we have to add another machine to the list to keep off of his face if he goes back. But that is another blog entry. He is home now on hospice in end stage lung disease and we have been told he has a few months left to live.
In the last few years since my dad got sober he has looked at things in a very blunt, honest way (with his own spin of course). So watching him NOT look at death is strange to me. He is having a hard time seeing what has changed since he has come home from the hospital. He doesn't understand that he probably isn't going to get better this time. Or maybe he does and it is just going to take time.
As I searched the web for something to console me I found this:
Denial is an important coping mechanism and has been described as a form of terror management. We deny because the reality is too frightening, too overwhelming or too much of a threat to our sense of control. Denial is a form of natural protection that allows us to let reality in bit by bit. It allows us to continue living as we contemplate death. Mary E. Johnson has been a chaplain at Mayo Clinic, Rochester, Minn.
Terror management. And then it makes sense. Denial is this thing that I have been taught to see as "bad" and something to be broken down. Not now. Not here. Not even with death. My Dad may or may not come to terms with his death before it happens. What I am learning is that is not necessary. Death will happen any way. Any of my ideas that things have to be resolved, taken care of or seen are holdovers too much goddamn pop psychology and way for me to not be in this very, awkward, painful present moment. All I really have to do for now, is just show up and love as best I can while my dad makes his own way.
I have never been with anyone while they are dying. It is strange and groundless right in the middle of regular ole' life. As with so much of my life I am learning that the hardest part is for me to be right here, with him, with no answers, no grasping, lots of mixed feelings and knowing that I am part of something very big.

Comments

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