This week’s Mediahuis Irish regional newspapers’ column.
Michael Commane
Earlier this year The Joint Committee on Assisted Dying published its final report. It recommended Government introduces legislation allowing for assisted dying in certain restricted circumstances as set out in the recommendations of the report published on March 19 this year.
Why is it called assisted dying and not euthanasia? It’s a question I’ve been asking myself in the current debate. Matters concerning old age, caring for the sick and the phenomenon of dying crossed my mind in recent days. It brought me back to thinking of the last years of my parents’ lives.
Last week I visited three elderly men, whose ages are 97, 88 and 83. Over the years I have met them on occasion but I would never have been close to them.
One man spent 50 years in India, another a significant time in Trinidad and Iran and the other man, who taught me, spent his life in academics.
The 97-year-old is blind. For a person who spent his life reading and writing being blind must be the ultimate of afflictions. My memory of him as a lecturer was someone who was extremely kind and gentle.
The day I visited him he was lying in his bed. I introduced myself and he immediately greeted me with a wonderful smile. I got the impression he was delighted I had called to see him. We chatted, laughed about events in the past.
What astounded me was that he was utterly and completely at home with himself. Even in the eyes of a blind man I could see his wonderful smile. We joked about some of my wilder characteristics and he assured me he was well aware of them. It was a grace-filled experience and I came away saying to myself how I would like to grow old in a similar manner. Unlikely.
When I called on the 83-year-old, who spent 50 years in India, he was reading a massive tome, titled Jesus Remembered by DG Dunn. He has difficulties walking and is in the process of readjusting to the Irish climate. Over the years I often felt he was somewhat distant and maybe had little or no time for me. But I had never actually engaged with him. How wrong I was. Being in his presence is simply an uplifting experience. I got that wonderful sensation that we were talking real to each other and that I mattered to him. A great sense of being accepted.
And the third man, with whom I may have had a few disagreements over years, greeted me with a fabulous smile. He has early signs of dementia but he was so welcoming and kind.
It’s easy in the argy-bargy of our daily lives to hone in on the negatives. When we see the person in a holistic way, it’s a different story.
It brought me back to thinking of the last years of my parents’ lives. The old, the infirm and the dying have so much to give us.
Euthanasia seems part of the tapestry of the modern phenomenon of trying to sanitise everything. It seems a blindfolded approach to the mystery of life and death. It’s hardly the way to treat the human person.
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