The Art of Acquiescence

Skydiving

A few years ago, for his 94^th birthday, Dad wanted to jump out of a plane. He brought it up every day with an insistence that triggered my angst. I discouraged, deflected, and resisted. Dad mentioned his objective to his Primary Care Physician, who said, “Why not?” It was one of those rhetorical questions that could have been answered with a monologue, but in shock, I just stammered, “Why not.” My response wasn’t a question. It was a relenting, a release, a “What the heck was all the fuss?”. 

Why had I ever resisted? This was my first lesson in the art of acquiescence in a course that would last several years. It was a prelude to my introduction to the wisdom of the Stoics. His friends and family were not happy. They were where I had been. They had not endured the months of drama. I did my best to help them catch up and understand that this was the request of an adult with a reasonably sound mind, and we would appreciate their support.

“Life always begins with one step outside of your comfort zone.” ― Shannon L. Alder

Family affair

My brother and niece, Dad’s son and granddaughter decided to jump with him. We rendezvoused at the location. Dad’s friend, Bud, joined to watch. Bud was quite unhappy with me for “allowing” this to proceed and did not hold back, frequently whispering that it was a bad idea. In fact, Dad, that morning, tried to back out, but it was scheduled, and I wasn’t going to call it off unless we were at the site, and he decided in that moment that he had changed his mind. Possibly, my way of continuing the wrestle for control.

The Fates guide the person who accepts them and hinder the person who resists them. — Cleanthes

Dad met his jump partner, who said he was able to land a 92-year-old on his feet the prior week. The less risky alternative was to slide in. To me, this all still seemed like a very bad idea, but the release forms were completed, and we settled in watching others go up and come down while waiting for Dad’s turn.

The wind decides

I just wanted it to be over. I got my wish. It was over before it began. The last group to land were instructors who said that the winds had become too dangerous to continue. We were welcome to wait and see if things changed. Dad did not want to wait. I’m not sure that he would have gone through with it. We could reschedule or get a refund. Dad opted for the refund. His memory of the non-event doesn’t include him trying to back out the morning of the jump. He only remembers that the wind foiled his plan, and that is not wrong.

Skills test

I recalled this multi-month-long battle each time our will met in the ring. Like with many “disagreeable” decisions that Dad has made, his most recent decision could have repercussions for all of us. This goes along with the caregiving territory. Dad insists on seeing an eye doctor. He will not be deterred, and he will talk of nothing else. Dealing with glaucoma and macular degeneration, he has struggled with blurry vision for as long as I can remember. His ophthalmologist and retina specialist manage the symptoms and have expertly kept his minimal vision intact. After listening, empathizing, and suggesting we wait, it was time to demonstrate what I learned in the Art of Acquiescence master class.

I do not want to foresee the future. I am concerned with taking care of the present. God has given me no control over the moment following. – Mahatma Gandhi

Conviction of Hope

It is hard to know what Dad truly understands about COVID-19 and the risk he is taking. He can accurately relay the details of the virus and the impact it has had on the country and the world. In addition, he can explain the risks involved with going to the eye doctor, who sees only emergency cases. He was on the phone trying to reach anyone who would see him when I decided it was time to strap that parachute on him.

Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out. -Vaclav Havel

I talked through the situation with a member of the staff at his retina specialist’s office and have decided to take him in or at least drop him off because I can’t go in. He can manage on his own. He will wear a mask. It may keep him from touching his face. I will have hand sanitizer at the ready. We will hold our breath for two weeks. Maybe a mighty wind will appear before his appointment.

Navigating the Caregiver River: A Journey to Sustainable Caregiving is available on Amazon. Also, check out the Self-Caregiving Strategies Podcast.

Schedule Theresa Wilbanks to speak on caregiving and empower the caregivers in your workplace or community with the 12 Sustainable Caregiving Strategies.

Advice offered is for general information only; please contact your healthcare team, legal or financial advisors to guide your particular situation.