I had become struck by the fact that many of the children who are patients in the hospital happen to display coping skills beyond expectation and, consequently, beyond their parents as well. The truth of the matter is that many of these kids are far more accepting of their diagnoses than their parents are, no matter the prognosis. Yet at the same time it is easy to go into a room and dismiss the patients ideas about their future because of their age. Or worse, expect the patient to not understand what is happening to them at all and then completely ignore the meaning they have come up with to help themselves through the situation.
I have seen parents grow more and more distant from their children, to the point that they stop visiting. I have seen parents take fantastic care of their children, being 100% supportive. It's not that all family's are bad or good, it's about how well they are able to mold themselves to their current situation. Frankly, children are often better at rolling with the punches than most adults.
A child's life is not wrapped around an ideal. Parents come in with beliefs, expectations, understandings of what life is and how it "ought" to work. Kids don't have that rigidness. And this is completely a side note, please don't "explain" death as: "You go to be with Jesus". That is not an answer, it's a loaded statement that they really don't understand and then the chaplain gets to unpack that for them into a way they can understand. Death is part of life so explain it in simple, clear, honest, and understandable terms. The sooner you do it the better. Acceptance of death as a natural thing will save them years of misery in the long run.
As I began to think of these sage-like children I remembered Lewis Carrol's: You Are Old, Father William.
"You are old, Father William," the young man said,
And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head--
Do you think, at your age, it is right?
"In my youth," Father William replied to his son,
"I feared it might injure the brain;
But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again."
"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before,
And you have grown must uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned back a somersault in at the door--
Pray, what is the reason of that?"
"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his gray locks,
"I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment--one shilling a box--
Allow me to sell you a couple."
"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak--
Pray, how did you manage to do it?"
"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
Has lasted the rest of my life."
"You are old," said the youth, "one would hardly suppose
That your eyes was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose--
What made you so awfully clever?"
"I have answered three questions, and that is enough,"
Said his father; "don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you downstairs!"
The poem describes a youth who continually questions the wisdom of his elder and rightly so. In the end the father answers, as many parents do when they are asked a lot of questions, with the non-answer of: "Because I said so".
My message to the other chaplains was not to discount any of our patients because of their age and don't expect bountiful wisdom from all parents because of their age. Instead we must be prepared for anything, to be anything that is needed. Because everyone is in need of something: wisdom, comfort, understanding, hope, someone to listen, someone to play a video game. But not everyone is willing to take the time to find out what it is. Really, it's easier to check out their cover, make a judgment, and then give them what you think they need.
0 comments:
Post a Comment