by Liz B | Oct 15, 2017 | Death, Parents, Thoughts and Reflection, Wisdom
As some of you reading this may or may not know, my dad passed away this year (2017) at the end of March. He was 70 years old.
The main cause of his death was alcoholic cirrhosis of the liver (probably heart failure, too); as he had been a heavy drinker for over forty years. The last few years before his death, he began to experience symptoms that he wouldn’t tell anyone about — including me — in much detail, but it was enough to scare him, as it caused him to stop drinking for the most part. However, he turned to chain smoking instead and essentially smoked his way out.
He was a criminal defense lawyer and represented some well-known cases in Utah. But much more than that, he was unlike anyone I have ever met to this day. I’ll never forget Zach Abend’s article written in 2007 about my dad, stating:
“He is articulate and has a habit of closing his eyes when he concentrates. He is very astute and has enough charisma for a roomful of politicians, possessing a Clintonian charm. However, if you don’t know [him] well, you will be taken aback by his brusqueness. He eschews formal hellos or goodbyes. He will talk for hours at great length, and as soon as the conversation ends, he will walk away.”
I have always appreciated how Zach was able to describe my dad, because it was difficult to find someone who really could understand him, let alone someone who could capture his spirit with words.
My dad was a true rebel in every sense of the word…
…and not just for the sake of being rebellious. He didn’t become a criminal defense lawyer because he thought it would be interesting — he pursued that path because it embodied his entire way of being.
In an attempt to dissect and illustrate his worldview, I can best express it by saying that the core of it seems to have come from his great sensitivity to injustice in the world and in general; personal experiences with the government during the time of the Vietnam war and thereafter during his career; as well as his viewpoint that most companies, institutions, and humans operate primarily by greed.
This is where he and I really differed. While I certainly understood and agreed with his viewpoint to an extent (especially as an adult), we usually approached things from different directions.
Despite all the ignorance and horrible things that happen on a daily basis on Earth, I tend to focus on humankind’s potential as a whole. I feel that there is a higher part of us all, and I feel people can become better, more “enlightened” so-to-speak. I start from a positive viewpoint first, and am disappointed (although not surprised) when people are incredibly self-serving or commit acts out of hate, and so on.
My dad usually started from a negative viewpoint first; quite pessimistic and expecting to be disappointed, yet regardless was still a very compassionate person. He’d say a lot of things, but I felt he never truly judged. He could accept someone regardless of all of their faults, or faults that he perceived them to have.
This worldview of his was part of a very important and solid foundation.
Even though I felt he was too pessimistic much of the time, he had a keen ability to see through people’s bullshit. He understood the psychology of people fairly well, and saw that so many people’s minds were completely shaped by groups they were a part of or society as a whole, which were full of systems that he felt were flawed.
So many people sell themselves out firstly because they don’t know themselves, and/or they themselves are motivated primarily by money and will essentially sell themselves for it in different ways.
Or most people just lacked guts, as he’d always tell me. It was rare to find a person that had the courage to stand alone against a group with their own opinion and stance, when no one is rooting for them; which is what he so often had to do as a criminal defense attorney in the courtroom.
On the other end, he sympathized greatly with the many people who were misunderstood by society, himself being one of those people. Because he was completely NOT the status quo in any shape or form, had differing opinions and way of life than most around him, and was incredibly blunt and at times profane.
Sometimes as a result, conversations were uncomfortable with him because he’d either immediately recognize and call you out on your BS, or just generally bring up things that people didn’t want to talk about. Or other times he was just making assumptions about you, which he’d do to me all the time.
But he was honest — honest to the core, to himself and to others. And he had a heart. Sometimes all people could see was the gruff exterior and didn’t understand what he was about, because they couldn’t really see it.
And I’ve found, that that’s often how the truth is. It doesn’t flaunt itself and it appears in the least expected of places. It’s up to you to be able to recognize it.
Wisdom from My Dad
Now that you know some of the backstory, some of the following should be more entertaining and interesting.
Instead of putting a timeline on these, I’m going to list them regardless of their time period and put them all in his words, for those that I can. Just know that some of these were given to me just weeks before he died; as he wanted to make sure that he got everything out that he wanted to tell me before he passed. Most all of these were emails from him to me, so I literally just copied and pasted.
- “These online arguments are much like political debates—no one knows the rules, there are no judges, even the subject matter is vague and usually too broad—the worst thing are words—people just don’t have the discipline to use words carefully and so it is usually a discourse or speech using symbolic themes, metaphors and myth and worst of all, using half-baked notions of popular morality that are meant to appeal to as many as possible—when all else fails they combine jingoism with morality—‘american values’ or ‘this country stands for ______’ just verbal vomit really”
- “‘the fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows he is a fool’ anatole france —he wrote perhaps the best political satire ever written Penguin Island….do a google and read some of his quotes”
- Before traveling to Indonesia, my dad said: “bon voyage and keep your eyes open—see, rather than just look”
- “one of the things i needed to tell you before i die is that you can’t trust people who smile a lot or who are very nice to you”
- “lookit, everything, i mean it, almost everything, seems to have turned into a scam in the last 15 or 20 years—it may have been a scam before that i just didn’t know or it has turned because there are too many peeps or something—it is a good thing for the world that peeps get old, lose their memory, and then die—think of it if we didn’t —thousands of old guys running around reminding new peeps that everything is a cheat—h.l. mencken said you can never over-estimate the american people for falling for a scam—it is almost like it is a ritual, invented by Marx and Lenin to keep money in circulation and not permit proles to get their hands on too much for very long”
- “tires are very complicated–very—don’t go to a goodyear or big-o because they exist just to rip you peeps off—sears or believe it or not wal-mart are safest bet—buy continentals or even goodyears —buy 40,000 mile summer tires and get them balanced—you can buy cheaper from tire rack or the like but you must pay for shipping and mounting and balancing so it’s usually better to buy locally—metzler and toyo are good but no pirellies—mostly they are performance tires”
- “ALL car places will rip you off—all—firestone and goodyear shops are the worst—i have seen women and young men treated very badly—with tires, no one, even the guy that sells them understand the codes and ratings—always go to jiffy lube for oil change —buy batteries at wal-mart or sears….more serious stuff and you need to find a shop that has been around a long time and the mechanics are my age”
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“you are leaning important things about the cops and government—it is not what you have done–it is what you look like you’ve done—you must remember that”
- “my theory with you from the beginning was to fulfill at least my minimum duty of introducing you to the world as it is and not the way you want it to be “
- “sometimes all you got is guts but sometimes guts is enough”
- “truth is often a hidden and inconvenient commodity—once a roller, always a roller—peeps don’t hang with rollers unless their heart is black, and once black, it cannot be turned white”
- “I learned not to simply tell someone the truth because they would not believe it and then get pissed that they didn’t think of it first. So, it’s best just to ask questions and see if people are curious enough to try and answer them. People telling religious or political ideas may become violent if confronted”
“The Devil is in the Details”
And last but not least (for today…there’s much more I could dig up), in the few weeks before he died he kept harping on the phrase “the devil is in the details.”
He would try to give me real life examples, like the one time I opened a drink for him and put it on his bedside table, then he’d take a drink and I’d put the cap back on for him. He’d say, “now I’m not going to be able to get it back off! See, the devil is in the details…you have to pay attention to the details.” I was thinking to myself, “well I didn’t want it to spill if you knocked things over! (which he often did with his mobility troubles towards the end).”
Later he had a small piece of paper he wrote something on he wanted me to get at the store for him. On the other side, I noticed that at another point in time he had written “devil in details” to remember to tell me about it (below), which I decided to save forever:
Although my dad was so commonly misunderstood, most people could recognize one very obvious and important thing about him, and that’s that he was one in a million. I hope to keep some of his humor and wisdom alive through my blog posts.
by Liz B | May 16, 2017 | Aging, Caregiving
My dad died this year (2017), on March 20th at age 71. Just a few months beforehand, my best friend and I saw him at Christmas and had been actively convincing him to go to the hospital due to his massive ascites (fluid buildup in the abdomen). His abdomen was gigantic and he could barely move. He had had essentially a lifetime of heavy drinking and smoking, so we thought that likely had to do with it.
It was clear that when we saw him at Christmas he was scared, because right after greeting him he immediately began talking about his symptoms with my best friend, who is a medical student. She had guessed that many of the major symptoms he was experiencing were due to liver failure, and she ended up being correct. However neither of us felt he was in the late stages of anything.
In January, he finally went to the hospital. It took him a long time to get himself there because he hated doctors and hospitals. I knew it wasn’t going to be good, but I didn’t expect that he would be dead just two months later. He didn’t tell anyone what hospital he had gone to, so when I didn’t hear from him a few days later, I called every hospital in the state asking if they had him there. I finally found him, and had learned that he had had TWO heart attacks in the hospital and was in the ICU.
I freaked out. So much was going through my head at this time. I didn’t yet know what kind of condition this had left my dad in exactly, and what kinds of problems would be permanent vs. fixable. Additionally, my dad didn’t have a good relationship with many members of the family, and he was also often too stubborn to reach out and make amends (as many people can be). I began to realize that if he needed care, I would likely end up being the primary person to care for him.
And I’ll be honest — the idea of this was daunting. I was 32 years old, full-time job, not living in the state, not having tons of money…and even if it wasn’t said, I initially got the feeling that instead of people offering to help, they were pushing me to do everything on my own and didn’t want to be involved for various reasons.
I flew down to where he lived as soon as I could to see him. The minute I saw him, I could barely hold back the tears. At Christmas he had he looked as he always did, despite the ascites. There in the hospital, he looked like he had aged 20+ years. Literally. He looked about 95 years old. He was frail and his eyes seemed to be bulging out of his head. He was sound of mind, yet somehow also much more vague than usual.
However at that moment, any overwhelm, fear, hesitance, whatever else it might be, was overridden by the glaring fact that my father was in an extremely vulnerable situation, essentially alone. Nothing else mattered. He desperately needed help. How was he going to function on his own?
I talked to one of his doctors who told me everything about his condition. He had multiple organs failing, they said he had a few weeks to a few months to live, and he was on a number of medications (primarily diuretics). The doctor mentioned to me afterwards, “this is really a lot to be on your plate at 32 years old.” I nodded in agreement. After that point in time I was continued to be repeatedly asked by doctors, nurses, hospice team members, and so on, “There really isn’t anyone else who is going to be helping you?” I shrugged. I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that if I were going back home at any point soon in the future, I’d have to have a caregiver to take my place. How was I going to afford that?
Luckily, I was able to stay in the state and care for him in his last months as best I could, while juggling full-time work and trying to make it work with little money. It was definitely difficult. But during and after the experience, you see the sweetness in it, you learn things, you grow immensely from the experience, and best of all, you become thankful for it.
In an attempt to paint a picture of what it was like, here are the major things I learned and experienced…
- These types of experiences show you people’s true colors, and what people are really made of. Because it is literally, a life or death experience. You will see who is able to put things behind them and step up to the plate to help, and who isn’t.
- While the above can be some cause for disappointment, it was also incredible to see who did step up to the plate that I never imagined would. Friends messaging me asking if there’s any way they could help, that they would do anything. People who offered to help me clean his house, to help me cook meals, who gave me rides and lent me transportation. It was truly incredible. My cousin was a godsend; he helped me many-a-time on a whim when my dad had had a fall or some other emergency. I am forever thankful for that because without them, it would have been infinitely harder.
- I learned the true nature of hospice teams — when to use them and when not to, as well as the confusion in what part they serve. They are actually fairly limited in what they can do. They are there to make the end comfortable and can easily get you medications you need and offer nurse visits once or twice per week. If you need someone to help care for your loved one, they need a separate caregiver, or two, or three. I tried to get a nurse or even an aide from the hospice team to come visit my father at his home more often, such as 4-5 days per week at least even just to have an extra person to check on him for a few minutes. They told us they couldn’t approve that (sometimes they can!) because he wasn’t “actively dying.” I said what, then, qualifies as actively dying? How do you measure that? In fact, after I had that conversation with them, he ended up dying a couple weeks later. This frustrated me.
- I learned about how to make a house accessible for those who are handicapped. Some of the equipment you can buy, and modifications you can make on your own.
- You learn that you have to really envision their situation in order to understand their world in specific ways. What exactly might happen when they try to walk to the bathroom? Do they need grab bars on the walls? What pathway will they use? Are there things in the way to try to get to it? Do they have pain when they try to sit down to use the toilet? How can they get into the shower, if they have some of their own mobility? Where are the hazards and what in the house has to be altered? Who can they contact if there is an emergency and no one is home, and how are they going to do it if they can’t get to the phone?
- You will sometimes come across people in the medical/health profession who can seem insensitive to someone’s suffering (i.e. little empathy) just because they have no personal connection to them. They are just another patient, and the professional is just doing their job. Lack of empathy is a common problem and I don’t mean to pass blame, but it can be frustrating when you’re in such a difficult situation and you don’t feel they are truly empathetic towards it.
- You witness many people’s attitudes towards the elderly in this country — especially in places like rehab or assisted living centers. You witness how some places really just are places for people to go and die, that elderly/handicapped people are sometimes not seen as people that have any life left, but just a set of problems — in my dad’s words. It’s very unfortunately true, and something that really needs to somehow be worked on and changed.
- Then at other times, you might come across those in the medical profession who are incredibly empathetic and go the extra mile to help when they see such a vulnerable situation, and those people are were like angels to me at that time. They might not realize how much their efforts are appreciated.
- You learn what it feels like to be completely focused on someone else’s life, someone who is very reliant on you. Similar I imagine to those who have kids. I couldn’t go out to dinner or do anything fun without my mind being completely occupied with thoughts on how he was doing, if he was okay, if he had fallen, and so on.
- Every time I got a phone call from him while working my heart would drop with stress, wondering if there was an emergency or a problem; and every morning upon waking up I would immediately have another surge of stress, wondering if he had been okay through the night.
- I learned an insane amount about Medicare, Medicaid, Rehab centers, assisted living centers, home care assistance programs, who qualifies for Veterans benefits and how they work.
- I learned about what equipment you can get covered through Medicare and delivered straight to their own home. My dad’s hospital bed with a trapeze was a life saver and allowed him to get out of bed on his own.
- I learned that you can call the fire department when someone falls and just tell them you need lifting assistance, but no transportation to the hospital, and they are awesome and very helpful (we had to do this about 6 times).
- I learned what it feels like to have to be the strong one even while you’re dying a little inside at any given moment, or witnessing things that just wrench your heart out.
- Funerals are expensive.
Then, the scenario after your loved one dies is a whole other story and process of learning. It’s insane. I told my friend if you are a child and your parents did not leave a will, there should be an entire manual written about rules on what you should or should not do…with the house, with their bills, learning about the probate process (which is a process that often happens when a will is not present, and thus the parent’s belongings are split up among heirs equally by the courts), when probate is needed and when it’s not, etc. I mean really. There needs to be more education on this, because there is so much about the way things SHOULD be done and it feels like you are expected to just know. If you are nearing or are in this situation, please educate yourself on this matter. It becomes pretty important. But this is a topic for a whole new blog post.
I hope if anything you took something away from this article, but the most important point I can make is that in the end, it is a wonderful experience, and despite the difficult times, I look back on it and feel it was a privilege and a relief to know that my father was able to feel cared for in his last months on this earth. And that’s all that matters. It’s all I could have asked for.
