SATURDAY STORY - JANUARY 15, 2022
Ralph Olson was hurting. At 92, his body was going downhill quickly. Blood gathered in his legs and he daily had compression pads pulsing for half an hour - trying to keep his legs and feet from dying. He had limited walking skills and generally used a motorized chair to get around in the Good Sam assisted living center in Sioux Falls, South Dakota (Good Sam was of course, short for the Good Samaritan in the Bible). He knew his days were numbered - maybe a few months, or maybe three or four years. There weren’t many other options - live until he died. Death was inevitable.
He could heave himself out of his motorized chair into his recliner where he watched too much TV during the day. Then heave himself in a walker chair to get to the restroom and bedroom in his one-bedroom apartment.
The facility brought him lunches and he had aides look in about every two hours, plus the one-hour getting up service in the morning, the one-hour bathing service every other day, and the one-hour compression service in the evening. He wore disposal underwear. He had medicine three times a day - morning, noon, and night. It just was the way it was.
Ralph had been an executive with First Premier Bank in Sioux Falls. Ralph and his college sweetheart, Harriet had a loving life. He missed her every day. While not real religious, he knew the verse that said “to live with Christ but to die was gain”. Death was a big unknown. Would he see Harriet again? Would it be gain? He reasoned that anything would be gain after the pain and problems of his day,
In his retirement, he had taken up painting. Harriet had been an excellent artist with a studio and taught art classes at Augustana University in Georgetown. But, maybe once a week (or less), he manipulated his chair into the spare bedroom where his art materials were. Some days after he got into the studio bedroom, he would fall asleep with his brush in his hand - sometimes after a few strokes on a canvas, and sometimes not.
Death was stalking him - he knew it. He wanted to give us and give in - but that wasn’t his call, At times he thought that Dr. Kevorkian had been right - people had the right to determine their death. Too bad he couldn’t have a gun in his room, he would do it himself. But, those Christians had lobbied after assisted suicide and won. Some of the serious Christians had slogans from birth to natural death. Well - wait until they were in the same boat he was and they would be screaming for death. Some days he would have terrible dreams of pain. Some days he would have dreams of Harriet calling out to him, going out in their sailboat on Lake Cochran.
The chaplain stopped by most Tuesday afternoons and that was a bright spot for Ralph. Ralph had liked philosophy in college and although he knew he couldn’t make a living as a philosopher, he enjoyed a lively debate with Rev. Kitchen. “What about life after death? Can I get into heaven? Will I see Harriet”, none of which Rev. Kitchen could really say. Sure the Christian Bible talked about Jesus going to prepare a place for his followers.
Was Ralph a follower or just an interested party?
In the philosophical sense, this was a ‘golden age. Ralph could read spiritual and philosophical books, and could listen to audiobooks, and a gazillion podcasts, and watch a slew of videos and sermons on YouTube.
Ralph could also check his investments. He had well over 50 million dollars in investments, and the market was going up. “Big Deal,” he thought. He would never see any of it or spend any of it. He and Harriet had not had children. She didn’t want to be burdened by children hindering their lifestyle of vacations in Hawaii, Tahiti, or even climbing trips in Nepal. In his latest will, he left most of the money to the Good Sam home, some to Dakota State University (where he and Harriet had met), and some to some local charities like the food bank.
So, now it was time to just sit and wait for death. He sometimes played Bach’s “Come, Come Sweet Death” on YouTube.
***It was like Ecclesiastes chapter 1:
“Everything is meaningless,” says the Teacher, “completely meaningless!”
"What do people get for all their hard work under the sun? Generations come and generations go, but the earth never changes. The sun rises and the sun sets, then hurries around to rise again. The wind blows south and then turns north. Around and around it goes, blowing in circles. Rivers run into the sea, but the sea is never full. Then the water returns again to the rivers and flows out again to the sea. Everything is wearisome beyond description. No matter how much we see, we are never satisfied. No matter how much we hear, we are not content."
"History merely repeats itself. It has all been done before. Nothing under the sun is truly new. Sometimes people say, “Here is something new!” But actually, it is old; nothing is ever truly new. We don’t remember what happened in the past, and in future generations, no one will remember what we are doing now."
“I observed everything going on under the sun, and really, it is all meaningless—like chasing the wind."
<end of quote>*****
Not quite a Pollyanna story today. It is loosely based on a friend I know.
Is everything meaningless like Soloman the writer of Ecclesiastes wrote? Do we have hope? To Ralph, he seems to have lost his hope. Is it like chasing the wind? I don’t know.
And, there are a lot of people like Ralph. Maybe somebody you were a neighbor to years ago, slowly dying in an assisted living or nursing home that would love a visit from anybody!!! (Maybe even you)
Karen White
January 15, 2022
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