The Healing Journey

July 21, 2023

“Blessed are those who have regard for the weak; the Lord delivers them in times of trouble. The Lord protects and preserves them — they are counted among the blessed in the land… The Lord sustains them on their sickbed and restores them from their bed of illness.”
– Psalm 41

(The following column was written by Karen A. Avitabile, editor of the Catholic Transcript of the Archdiocese of Hartford, where it originally appeared.)

I will never forget the last time my father tried to utter the words “be careful driving” from his bed in the nursing home, where he lived out the last few years of his life.

Those words were commonplace when I was a teenager and got my license, when I began driving to college, after taking a job with a substantial commute and traveling around the country to places I had never been. However, his words took on a whole new meaning each time my father tried to verbalize them when I left his room in the nursing home.

At age 64, my father died of ALS, amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, commonly referred to as Lou Gehrig’s disease. A type of progressive neurodegenerative disease, ALS currently has no cure but treatments are improving and those diagnosed are living longer lives.

The nearly five-year struggle was not easy for him, nor his loved ones and caregivers. As his mobility declined and his speech was lost, we had to acquire new methods of communicating with him. But he always maintained a sense of humor and an indomitable spirit.

While this roller-coaster ride tested us in ways that were seemingly unimaginable, the blessings were bountiful. And the lessons learned in love, patience and self-compassion were long lasting.

It is not surprising for anyone in this challenging situation to feel vulnerable. Oftentimes, outsiders suggested his family should “pull the plug,” fearing that living with his condition was inhumane to him and was quite an onerous burden on his family. We, however, never saw it in this way.

We considered it a privilege to provide unending love and support during a time when it was needed the most. Though it can be hard to find joy when someone is slipping away, we treasured every moment at his bedside just sitting, talking, praying and holding his hand.

After he passed, there were countless times when well-intentioned people said, “At least he is no longer suffering.” While that was true on the surface, I had lost my father.

In many states and countries around the world, the “dying with dignity” laws, including physician-assisted suicide and euthanasia, have been adopted to speed up the dying process for the terminally ill. Right here in Connecticut, bills have been proposed to assist people in killing themselves. Luckily, they have been defeated. From the Catholic Church’s perspective, ending one’s life or aiding and abetting in the death of someone is immoral and defies Catholic doctrine.

I speak from experience when I say that I was honored to be by my father’s side as he entered his new, eternal life with God. Today, nearly 17 years after his death, I still wish I had one more day to kiss him on the forehead, then watch him mouth the words: “be careful driving.”

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