My son got me hooked on “Game of Thrones” a few seasons ago. When he left for college, I realized I would no longer have a viewing buddy. My daughter quickly volunteered which meant there would be hours of TV getting her up to speed on the show.
During the 4th season, there are a few scenes in which people were dying and out of mercy, someone put a knife through their heart, or slit their throat. My daughter wondered why they would do this, it struck like violence, but in reality they were exhibiting mercy. It was the only way to help them avoid lingering in pain. As my daughter expresses dismay, we start to talk about it and I immediately recognize the complexity of mercy.
For anyone who has managed the hospice journey for a loved one, you understand the conviction it takes to be bedside and demand more comfort medicine.
You watch as your loved one’s body fights, even against what you know to be their end-of-life wishes.
I still feel conflicted about the last week of my mom’s life. She broke her hip and surgery was not an option; she had a stroke and no longer recognized me; she was unable to enjoy chocolate and would pack it in her cheeks; she was frightened and uncomfortable. We did what we could to bring peace. Now it’s time for me to find my own. Battled.