Coat of Courage

Because of his dementia, I lost mental contact with my father. I couldn’t explain to him what was happening when he entered the hospital with a broken hip. I also lost the emotional connection of memory and our shared sense of humor where we could sling jokes back and forth. What I did have was the physical. Unfamiliar territory. I found it difficult to reach over and wash his face with a warm wash cloth, or to spoon feed him his pureed meals. I was encouraging him to take food and drink, essential life elements, to reassure me, my mother and brother that his life would continue. We use to say I love you by a hand on the shoulder or when our eyes met while laughing. Now was the time to say it out loud. Dare to say the words and reassure him it was ok to leave, if that was his choice.

That night in my meditation, I asked for help and received this image of a coat. It felt more like a shield. Something handed down from great grandmother, to grandmother, to mother, to daughter. So well worn, with the experiences of life and death woven into its very fabric. Loosely cut, this shirt could fit anyone, man or woman but the buttons were special in significance. They represented the feminine element - that part of all of us which cares deeply for others, capable of laying aside our lives for as long as we are needed. The feminine is also the part that communicates with the invisible realms - the communicator between this world and the next. This is what I needed for my task. Before entering the hospital, I visualized putting on this special coat and, indeed, it gave me the courage to face what I didn’t want to face - to do what I didn’t want to do, to say what I was afraid to speak and to let go with peace upon his release.