Number 31 of 52 Lifelong Communication Lessons: Old Edith
August 04, 2015 |
| Cover of The Vancouver Sun, Special Edition - September 11, 2011 |
The year was 2001.
It was the year of fear that would have lasting impact. Anthrax laden envelopes were arriving in the offices of media and politicians one week after the dreadful 9/11 attack on the World Trade Center. Richard Reid the shoe bomber tried to blow up American Airlines. The cover of The Vancouver Sun (pictured above) captures the drama and trauma of that time.
We first met our neighbours Edith and Mel at a block watch party that year. My husband, Smitty was the block watch captain so he knew everyone by name. Mel was a crusty old guy bound to a wheelchair. His wife, Edith was a happy soul content to putter in her garden and hang sparkly stuff in her tress and shrubs. They befriended Smitty and before long he was helping them with yard work and chores such as splitting logs for their fireplace.
Mel's health was deteriorating fast and he was spending a lot of time hospitalized. Smitty was with him the day he died. Knowing the end was near, Mel made Smitty promise to look after Edith. And, so he did. At first, he stopped by their place occasionally to check in on her. As age took its toll, he started popping by weekly. Eventually, Edith moved to an assisted living facility and the weekly visits continued. He would bring her muffins and they would just sit and chat about life.
She would often fall asleep during those visits but, ever faithful Smitty, would gently wake her and continue the discussion. They could also sit in silence easily with each other just enjoying the human companionship. I went along once and marveled at their easy conversations about nothing in particular. It was a true friendship, not an obligation.
Smitty would always return from those visits feeling happy. There is a term, hedonistic treadmill that describes our need to keep repeating behaviours that bring us happiness. My husband would feel bad if he missed a week with Edith. They brought each other a lot of happiness.
Edith died two weeks ago at the age of 93. She was more than ready after years of declining health. She would often ask Smitty in her last few years, "Why do they keep us alive at this age?"
Edith's niece left a lovely message for Smitty about the incredible value of his visits and how much Edith treasured every minute.
Sometimes, chatting about nothing can mean everything.
Communication Lessons:
- It is not always about filling the space with words, sometimes it is just about being there.
- Fulfilling promises can make us happy.
- Giving always feels better than receiving.
Fast Forward to 2015:
Earlier this year the Supreme Court ruled that Canadians have the right to physician-assisted suicide. That would make Edith happy.
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