Kilroy Was Here

Recently my father, aged 89, had to go undergo surgery.  For weeks every effort was made to spare him the ordeal, risky for a person of his age, but eventually it became clear that the procedure was necessary.  For just as many weeks my siblings and I rearranged our schedules, cancelled work days when possible, and postponed events in our own families to be present to support our parents in the confusion and uncertainty Dad's health crisis had brought and that we were experiencing with them. 

When it was decided that surgery really was the only option to remedy Dad’s health problem, we siblings and I began our process all over again, consulting among ourselves to determine who could cancel which day of work or volunteer events so that Mom and Dad always had at least one of us with them for support.  Dad’s surgery went as well as could be expected but took its toll physically and emotionally on both my parents, as was only natural.  Now we still find ourselves taking it in turns to make the drive to our hometown and be with our parents for however much time we can carve out of our schedules.

 

Reflecting on this process and the likelihood that we may well be engaged in it for some time yet and quite possibly indefinitely, made me realize that I do not resent the unexpected demands on my time and the events I have to miss because of these new obligations.  No, I realized, I consider it an honour and a privilege to walk alongside my parents as they navigate their remaining country miles with grace and dignity and with the support of their children.  I feel we are so lucky to still have our parents and to have an opportunity to give back some of the loving care we consistently experienced from them while growing up.

I’m eager to help and would be hurt if I could not lighten their load or smooth their path a little.  And my other siblings seem to feel the same way.  To my way of thinking, that says something significant about how my parents walked their child-raising and family- life country miles.  Our only problem, if you could call it that, is that we all want to help and sometimes it feels like a competition to see who gets to do it this weekend.

All people, as they each walk their own country miles, like to feel that they have left something of value, something that makes a difference in the world and that they can take pride in, something that says they made a difference just for having walked this particular mile.  Much like the well-known graffiti that proclaims “Kilroy was here,” we all want to leave something that says to others who come after us that we were here; that we had an impact on our world.

I think that I and my siblings are our parents' proclamation that they were here.  They may not have realized it much of the time because they were busy with the tasks of raising us, but they raised us in a way that gives evidence of their walk on their country mile.  In many ways my siblings and I now are trying to walk as they did, as they taught us.  I'd like to think that I, too, will leave my own "Kilroy was here" statement for my children.  They will have their own mile to walk and it will be up to them to choose how they walk it, but hopefully some of their steps will be similar to mine, as some of mine are similar to my parents'.