I am preparing for the funeral of a very dear aunt, and an incredible human being. She died from progressive supranuclear palsy
(PSP). Research on PSP is ongoing, and I was somewhat comforted to learn some time ago that plans included an autopsy and brain donation.
Ours is a huge extended family, and within it are reflected the spectrum of political and spiritual viewpoints. When it became apparent that our aunt's death was at hand, one particular cousin - I'll call her Tina - became actively involved in the decision making process, lending support to the active caregivers who are understandably extremely bereaved and in that context it only natural that Tina inject her own personal world view.
Tina believes that the earth was created 5000 years ago. She also believes that Bibles should be handed out at public schools. She quotes Rush Limbaugh. In short, Tina all but glows from gulping the Kool-aid. Some of her statements are so surreal, that I have found myself waiting for the missing punchline.
While Tina and I hold opposing views on just about every important issue, for the sake of harmony, I don't really talk with her very much, and I certainly don't engage in debate with her. But I did talk with Tina a few days ago about the funeral plans, and I was very disappointed to learn that a last minute decision was made to forego an autopsy and the brain donation will not occur after all. Though disappointed, I can respect that decision knowing personally how difficult it is to make those decisions in the deepest hours of grief. However, Tina was not honest with me, though perhaps she was not honest with herself either. She said that our aunt died of Alzheimer's, that we all know that, and so we don't need an autopsy.
I reminded Tina that our aunt had PSP which at least in part is hereditary. It's not really Alzheimer's. But we can't really know what's going on without an autopsy.
Her response was that when it comes right down to it, it's a form of Alzheimer's, and it's all in God's hands. Only the good Lord knows what we'll all die of. And when. We don't need an autopsy.
It's too late now, and in hindsight I should have become more involved. It was within my power to do so in a respectful and tactful manner, but I really didn't think it was necessary. Silly me.
So now what? This aunt was like a mother to many of us who lost our own mothers at a young age. She was a devout Catholic, a tireless volunteer, committed to interfaith understanding, and in my opinion an exemplar of all that is good in Christianity. When she learned of my conversion to Judaism, she could have taken the easy route. She could have embraced generalizations and prejudice, and ridiculed my decision. Instead, at the age of 79, she took a class in Judaism. I now have her notebook from that class, and this is where I am drawing strength to overcome my own anger about this incident.
In reading through her notebook, I am finding insight in seeing how she focused on those principles that are at the foundation of both Judaism and Christianity as well as many other world religions. Here are some of the notes she penciled in the margins of her little notebook, along with some tentative sketches of Hebrew letters -
Tikkun Olam - heal the world for all people
L'Dor V'Dor - generation to generation
Tzedahah - giving to the needy - family, communities, others
Those ideas certainly sum up her personal legacy, and they even provide guidance to those of us left behind as to how we can pick up where she left off. I was sometimes uncomfortable when my aunt spoke of the importance of helping "the poor and the ignorant." I found that phrase to be offensively elitist. But as I see it now, I myself am poor - I certainly had a very poor understanding of how the minds of others function sometimes. And I was ignorant of just how easily and prematurely some people abandon basic reasoning and scientific diligence in favor of comforting platitudes.
But I have the power to rework the language of my own living will to ensure that something similar won't occur in my own case. And I can also make a contribution to the Society for Progressive Supranuclear Palsy in my aunt's memory. But most important of all, I can work harder to learn how to communicate with my cousin and other people with whom I disagree in a more meaningful and effective way.
I can also share this hard-learned lesson with others. I certainly realize that this is not a typical diary, but I sincerely hope that someone finds it useful. Nevertheless, let me at least try to make it concretely relevant. My aunt was a lifelong Democrat. We just lost one vote. And I certainly have plans to do something about that as well.