Open To What Is Next

Dad’s Words to Me

In the last year of my father’s life, it was necessary for him to have minor surgeries every few months. He rolled with these and recovered each time, able to enjoy the year with my mother in their new community where she was beginning to receive assisted living support. At this point, she was in the earlier stages of Alzheimer’s and they were able to participate in various social activities ranging from chair yoga to a singing group to dinners with new friends.

Later in the year and shortly after arriving home from another surgery, Dad had a stroke and was rushed to the hospital. The trauma unit was very skilled at responding to strokes and they tended to him fairly well in those first few days. Once he was moved from intensive care to a regular room, it was another story completely. There was a distinct lack of urgency and indifference to his discomfort. The nurse (whose name, if you can believe it, was Ginny) thought I was overreacting and commented: “You’re a bear for your father.” I had no problem with this characterization. Someone had to be a bear.

Dad’s surgeon resided at another hospital and encouraged me to have him transferred so he could be taken care of properly. Jess took immediate action, made a few calls and got things expedited. I explained to my father that we thought moving him was the best thing to do. I told him I’d drive my car and meet him there or if he preferred I could ride in the ambulance with him. I wondered whether the thought of changing hospitals was too stressful but he simply nodded his head, closed his eyes and said: “I’m in your hands.”

I felt the weight of responsibility but his trust in me (and in us) gave me confidence and I knew it was the right decision. We settled in to the hospital where he received the attention he needed and a more caring environment to live out his final two days.

The Deeper Meaning

It was nearly eleven years later and during my quiet time one morning. I pondered this interaction with Dad and his words: I’m in your hands. This recounting wasn’t new. I had relived this scene many times and treasured his words to me but that morning a question rose in my heart and mind. What was he really saying? What did being in my hands mean to him in that moment?

Right away I had three answers:

Freedom
Trust
Open to what is next.

I’m in your hands meant:

Dad was free from having to make the decision himself.
He was in a place of trust.
He was open to what was next.

Knowing my father, I realize that this statement – I’m in your hands – was also his prayer. He was placing his trust in me as well as in God. I think some of the best prayers are one-liners. When initially uttered and often spontaneous and raw, we might not even think of them as prayers. Nonetheless, they can be.

Words For Us Now

When I reflect on that interchange with my father, I feel proud of him and inspired. I’m in your hands. It was a bold way to face his final days. That was my Dad. The story could end there. We could conclude, “Well that’s a nice way to go out – at peace,” but Tony’s words apply to us right now.

Being open to what is next is a bold way to face every day. That’s what I’m aiming for this year and that is my current practice: to trust and remember I’m in good hands, the hands of my loved ones, the hands of God.

Each day we encounter the paradox of those two awesome currents: power and grace. In the clarity that results from discerning what is ours to do versus ours to release, can we feel freer and move with confidence? In the face of those things we cannot control, can we find courage?

Reflection:

• Think of a time it was comforting to realize you were in someone else’s hands.
• In what ways are you free even when it does not appear that way on the surface?
• As you move forward this year and especially when something is not going as planned, notice how your stance changes when you say these words out loud:

In your hands, I am free.
I am open to what is next.

Photo Credit: Skyimages