Come sit with me!
Sometimes when you are with someone old or infirmed, all you can do us go sit with them quietly. My ninety-four year old father lay near death's door, and I knew that it was too much to expect of him that he would carry on a conversation. With failing tunnel-vision eyesight he could not see who I was and asked very politely, "And, who are you?"
"It's Arthur," I replied.
"Ah hah," he responded, "Arthur, Arthur, ah hah!"
I could not tell whether he understood or not, for he fell silent as if all his energy were devoted to listening or just plain ordinary enjoying the presence of his middle son. That was conversation ended and my father's breathing was constant and deliberate. He knew I was there and he had a soft gentle smile as he stared silently at the ceiling.
I found the book that I had been reading to him. It was the story of Ellen Acland written by her mother Eleanor. I read another chapter, the last chapter of the book, and left.
That night my father passed away.
He left a memory of a Don Quixote character, a hero in his own mind and a conqueror of demons. As his son, I was always reminded of these demons. Dad took great care to make sure that I did not forget that they were around. His practice was to warn all and sundry about the demons of the world at least once, but his family endlessly. As a son, if my father thought that you did not hear what he said, he felt obligated, no driven, to tell you once more. I developed the habit of repeating to him what he had just told me and always agreeing.
On reflection, many of my best friends are like my father in telling me of the world's demons. It's best practice friendship and my father was throughout my life, my best male friend. My mother was my best female friend and she lived to the age of ninety-two.
My mother rarely spoke to me of my demons or anyone elses, but always guided me in the direction of worthwhile challenges. She fed me well and demanded little or nothing in return other than my telling her I was alive and sensibly happy at whatever I was about.
Mom supported the demon chasing and recognized that for a man peace came only after he had given warning or had fought off the demons.