I wanted to assist my grandmother so badly. It seemed to me the least I could do for all the years she helped me, took care of me and supported me. All my life I wanted her to see me as more than a child. For me, being by her side and serving her was my way of asserting myself as an adult.
My grandmother was by no means a saint. She learned somewhere along the way that she could generate attention and concern through sympathy. She did not read or have any social activity so she talked about what she knew--her arthritis, her fourth and fifth disc and her heart condition. Anyone who listened got the full story every time. The people at the grocery store, the mailman, the insurance man, and everyone in the family every time each one would visit.
Compassion is allowing someone to feel what they feel without judging and seeking to assist the one in need, in our best capacity. In turn demonstrating compassion requires us to step outside of our feelings, judgments and opinions about the person or situation. If we are family members, we sometimes have to forgive past hurts or painful memories in order to serve the ones in need. Compassion is acknowledging the pain of our loved ones; sometimes that requires that we do nothing more but be there and listen. That is challenging for individuals who are accustomed to solving problems and DOING something about a situation. Having someone to listen and not judge can be the best medicine often times.
Most of the time, I listened to my grandmother complain. I held her when she cried, I reassured her when she was depressed and feeling hopeless and I gently administered a positive outlook at the close of our day. There was a time when I put her in the bed every night. Even though it was frequently challenging and took anywhere from 15 to 30 minutes, I appreciated doing it. It was in those times I would kiss her on her forehead, tell her I love her and assure her that we would do it again the next day.
When we are compassionate, we are selfless. When compassion is in action, there is no room for impatience. There is no room to judge and feel as if someone is not doing what they are supposed to do. My grandmother complained often; everyone in the family thought she exaggerated, but there was a time when I realized that she was indeed in the process of making her transition. When that became apparent, I let go of any and all expectations I had of how she should be or what her transition was supposed to be like.
Once I let go, I was able to see the experience for what it was: a profound and life affirming experience. I acknowledged to myself that the situation was temporary. I thought it would take a year or two. From the time I reconciled myself to her being in transition to the actual time of her transition was about nine months. I am so glad I let go because it allowed me to be present and be there for her the entire time. I was not in denial, it did not come as a surprise to me. I saw her clearly. I looked at her with my eyes open, wide open.
My compassion allowed me to let her go and love her til the end.
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