When we are faced with a tragedy, such as 9/11, Katrina or Virginia Tech, or a crisis, such as my father’s angiogram tomorrow, the initial human reaction is to “do something.” We should get on a plane, make a difference, and be in the thick of things. While this is a noble human intention, it is often counterproductive. We need to listen to what those closest to the situation are saying, and not confuse our desire to heal with their wishes.
In 1991, I was a freshman in college when the ground war began in the first Iraq War. I was attending a Jewish institution, and various students began to come unglued as Iraq lobbed scud missiles at Israel (another reason I supported the current Iraq war and am delighted Saddam is gone). Some students were afraid Saddam would bomb our university in Los Angeles, because it was Jewish. I was irritated at all the hand wringing because I understood that Saddam had bigger concerns than some Los Angeles college very few people knew existed. The conflict was on the other side of the world. However, what really troubled me was some students wanting to drop out of school and join the Israeli army. They were upset that I wanted to stay in America. A phone call with my parents put things in perspective.
My father explained that “Human beings have a function in life. The function of the soldiers was to fight and protect America and her friends. The teachers’ function was not to go out and protest, but to stay in the classroom and teach. Your function as a student was to go to class and get good grades. It is more than your function. It is your obligation and your responsibility.”
Handling one’s responsibilities is never seen as heroic, but it is necessary to prevent a breakdown in the social order.
After 9/11, I wanted to fly to New York. I was born and raised there. I had a job in Los Angeles, and my coworkers were depending on me. I called my relatives, and everyone was alive and safe. Sure I wanted to go and help clean out the rubble, but it was unsafe.
After Katrina, NFL Football star Brett Favre wanted to go and be with his family in Mississippi. Yes, he had enough money and power to get on a plane. Yet that also would have been unwise. When a situation is fluid, and uncertainty is everywhere, arriving just to get in the way is counterproductive. The situation was not feasible for him to arrive. Until things calmed down, he stayed put.
There are so many ways we can help from our own homes. Having everyone arrive on the Virginia Tech campus is not the answer. We do not help those who are mourning by abandoning our responsibilities at home. Yes we grieve. We hurt. We feel like we have been given a big black eye. These feelings are valid, but our actions must be calm and measured, for the sake of the very people we wish to help.
When my grandfather died in 2004, I was violently ill that entire week. I was also financially strapped. I had several job interviews lined up. My parents did not want me flying 3000 miles for the funeral. My dad made no bones about his feelings. “There is no good to you showing up. You are sick, and you need to rest. You need to be healthy for your job interviews. You grandfather wanted you to be healthy and financially stable. Flying here jeopardizes both of those things, and you might get other family members ill. You have nothing to feel guilty about. Everybody knows how much you loved him, and we will all understand why you are not there.”
When I expressed that some family members might be insulted, my dad said “He was my father. Who are you going to make angry? Your mother and I love you, and we want you to stay where you are, get healthy, and go on those job interviews. The only things your grandfather ever worried about were health and money. Honor him by making him proud and getting that high paying job. You have nothing to prove, and nothing to be ashamed of for not being here. Don’t worry about honoring the dead. You honored him every day he was alive. Now go rest up.” I ended up typing up a eulogy on my computer, emailing it, and having it read at the funeral. I also got healthier, and got the job.
I am repeatedly reminded of this because my dad is still preaching it. His angiogram is tomorrow, delayed by one day. He has ordered the family not to visit. When I say ordered, I mean strictly ordered. He knows we love him, and when you love someone you respect their wishes. My mother relayed a message from him yesterday. “Dad wants you to work hard at your job, and make sure the boss is happy. There is no need at this time to fly 3000 miles. You are a stockbrokerage professional, not a doctor. You cannot do anything to fix the problem, so just honor your responsibilities. He loves you and he knows you love him.”
I just saw him 3 weeks ago, and my remaining vacation days will be used to visit him at the end of the year. If the situation gets more severe, I have to decide whether or not to get on a plane. The ethical issue becomes whether I put my own needs against my father’s wishes. The thing that makes it easy to listen to him is because he does not sugarcoat things. He does not believe this situation is at critical mass. I pray he is right. While I am thinking emotionally, he is using cold logical reasoning. He knows I only get a few days a year, and he believes those days will be needed later on, and the situation does not rise to the level of an emergency trip.
When Ronald Reagan was shot, he told the doctors “I hope you are all republicans.” It was his way of letting everyone know everything would be fine, and if it wasn’t, we should not feel bad. My dad is letting everyone know he is in charge, and he knows what is best for him. He is right about one thing. I am no medical genius.
As we deal with the tough issues in life, sometimes doing what is ethical and moral conflicts with what is practical. Sometimes the lines are so blurry that we want to do something to avoid thinking about it any longer. However, these are times when we must think first. We cannot let our own grief get in the way of what the victims’ wishes are. Some people want everyone around them. Others want peace and quiet, as opposed to chaos.
My father is not alone. My mother is spending hours with him. My father is not kicking her out of his hospital room. They are both retired, and the bills are paid. Looking after him is her function…her obligation…her responsibility. Plus, somebody has to let him know we love him and vice versa. Thankfully she is.
eric