This is a different sort of post I’m writing because I’m trying to sort through some very difficult feelings.
My mother in law is dying of cancer. There. I said it. It’s obvious to those who see her that she is not getting any better, in fact, her energy seems to be waning daily, her pain increasing, her frustration growing, and she is mourning the idea of her own life ending. I feel helpless.
I give her Reiki, hoping to soothe her, hoping to relieve pain, hoping to do something, anything to help. And yes, I’m there each day doing whatever she needs from watering the plants to drying and styling her hair. But it isn’t enough.
I am in pain watching my husband deal with his feelings surrounding seeing his mother this way and feeling equally helpless, despite all the many ways he is supporting and helping her. I see my children concerned over her appearance and her obvious distress. They shower her with love.
And the critical voice in my head says, “It’s not about YOU, Alice.” But it is. This experience isn’t only happening to my mother in law. It’s happening to our family. We are watching, hoping to do something to fend off the reality of what is happening before our eyes. We are all affected, all in distress.
And also, as I’m often in the company of other energy workers, people give me suggestions. They tell me to get such-and-such a juice, because it’s a miracle cure and it worked on their mother/father/friend. It’s only $800 for a case of it, of which she’ll need to drink a bottle each day. I feel vulnerable to the drive to do something…could THIS be it? Or something else? What about what we’re already trying? If she weren’t taking what she’s taking, would she be even worse? Should we try something else that sounds promising and find a way to pay for some? Or should we accept what is happening, knowing that if we HAD tried something, the right thing, that maybe she would have a chance of getting a little (or a lot) better? Or not. The maybes are hard to deal with.
The doctor has given up and suggested palliative care. The world hospice is a give-up word to her, and a telling word to us. It hurts.
What’s the Reiki doing, I ask myself. Am I receiving enough to stay in balance? Am I giving enough to make a difference? What else can I or should I be doing? I don’t know.
I feel for my husband. He is dealing with so much. He is still looking for a job (although it is a blessing that he doesn’t have one right now so he can also be there to help her, instead of being torn while at work, wishing he could be there for her when she needs him). He is caring for the kids while I teach Reiki and promote my local classes. He is taking care of many of the household chores. He has a lot on his plate. And he is (usually) gracious about it, although I know he feels overwhelmed. We believe we are in the right place at the right time, although this is a very hard time indeed.
I can only hope that the tools we have for coping will help us find balance and stay in a place of hope and healing in whatever way we can as things unfold. Please, angels, surround us all in love and comfort and carry us through this time.
Thanks for reading.