LOVE & death: when your body no longer represents your essence
In the quiet corners of a small seaside town, nestled between rolling mountains and the sea, there lived a man named Adam. Once, he was the master of his universe, figure of vitality, a man whose laughter could light up a room, whose soft eyes spread joy, and whose hands crafted beauty. He pride himself on living a useful existance, a nett producer of services and things of use. But as time wound its relentless path, Adam found himself locked in a battle he never asked to join: Parkinson's disease.
It began subtly, with a tremor in his hand that danced like a leaf caught in an autumn breeze. At first, he brushed it off as mere fatigue or the toll of aging. Yet, Parkinson's cared not for his denial; it crept into every facet of his life, stealing his ease of movement, his independence, and eventually, his economic freedom.
His days became a procession of struggles. Simple tasks, once taken for granted, now demanded Herculean efforts. Each morning, Adam faced the arduous task of dressing himself, his fingers fumbling with buttons and zippers as if they were foreign objects. The once-steady strokes of his paintbrush now trembled upon the canvas, betraying the artist's hand. He retreated to a life in exile wanting to protect his family from being the burden he thought he would be. He was proud…
But it was the nights that weighed heaviest upon him. As darkness descended, so did the demons of his disease. His muscles, once supple and strong, now twisted and contorted in agonizing spasms. Sleep became a distant memory, a luxury he could no longer afford. Instead, he lay awake in the suffocating silence, counting the seconds like a prisoner marking the passage of time.
In those long, lonely hours, Adam found solace in memories of a life well-lived. He recalled the warmth of his wife's embrace, the laughter of his children echoing through the halls of their home. But even these precious moments were tinged with sorrow, for they served as stark reminders of all that Parkinson's had stolen from him, slowly stripping away everything that makes him, him, everything that makes up his essence.
As the days stretched into weeks, and the weeks into months, Adam found himself facing a choice no man should ever have to make. He watched as his world grew smaller with each passing day, a prison of flesh and bone from which there seemed no escape. He became obsessed with not being a burden to his family and productive society, and started to isolate himself from his family and loved ones even more. And in the depths of his despair, he found himself planning for release. He started investigating exit bags…
And then God took a rib and made him an Eve, an angel personalised just for him, for his exclusive use. To pull him from the wreckage of his silent reverie, to wrap him in her wings, and let him find some comfort there…
Fast forward some ten maybe twenty years. It was a quiet evening when Adam broached the subject with his family, the words heavy upon his tongue like stones sinking into still waters. He spoke of his pain, of the unbearable weight of living with a body that betrayed him at every turn. And though their eyes brimmed with sadness, they understood.
Together, they embarked upon a journey fraught with heartache and uncertainty, a journey that would lead them to the doorstep of a controversial choice. They sought the counsel of doctors and specialists, each offering their own brand of wisdom and guidance. But in the end, the decision rested with Adam alone.
And so, with a heavy heart and a soul weary beyond measure, Adam made his choice. He chose dignity over despair, peace over pain. He chose to bid farewell to a world that had grown too cruel, too unforgiving. And in the gentle embrace of his loved ones, he found the courage to let go.
On a bright spring morning, with the scent of blossoms lingering in the air, Adam closed his eyes one final time. He felt the warmth of the sun upon his face, heard the soft murmur of voices that had accompanied him through a lifetime of joy and sorrow. And as he slipped into the waiting embrace of eternity, he knew that he had found his peace… his dignity…
For Adam, the journey was over. But his legacy endured, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit in the face of unimaginable hardship. And though his body lay silent beneath the earth, his spirit soared free, a beacon of hope for all who dared to dream of a world where pain had no dominion, and love knew no bounds...
South Africans suffering with a terminal illness deserve better end of life choices.
We all do!