Blood Pressure

Of blood pressure: 

through much of his adult life my day struggled with high blood pressure, medication, some diet modifications and he did pretty well until a stroke several years ago. Still he recovered and made some adjustments and continued on. Now at 94 and suffering congestive heart failure we are struggling to keep his heart pumping oxygen through out his body. As his caregiver I take his blood pressure reading several times a day and smile as my dad mentions the irony of latest battle, a lifetime to lower and last years to raise to a level of sustainability. He has maintained his sense of humor with every turn of health and fortune. 

he thinks it would't be a bad way to go, as far as dying goes. Certainly better than a host of others he's brushed against through life. This would be a gentle nod towards darkness compared to so many other ways 94 years can offer. But neither one of us is ready to let go, not quite, not yet. Soon though, maybe a year, a little longer, perhaps much less. We take the days as we find them.

so I find myself thinking about blood pressure; this morning I sit to write and the theme of this miraculous balance begins playing through my mind. It demands my attention for the moment. Right now my body functions without my single care and exactly no effort of my will. I'm simply alive by the grace of ease and comfort. Yet some innate wisdom directs it all, pulling blood through every vein, urging lungs in draw and release, balancing every delicate function. This very moment. Even in his declining health my father's body seeks this line, differently perhaps, as now this wisdom draws to close. 

it's all pretty amazing, life, and even its conclusion. Oddly enough my dad and I have never talked about what comes after. He was a science teacher, pragmatic in his views. I doubt he believes that anything comes after, this life is final and enough. That's another form of wisdom. His focus is just on the pleasure of each given moment, another morning's joy, and too what it takes to arrive to these moments. There is much suffering in living with congestive heart failure. There is much suffering in living. For all of us regardless of our years. It's simply part of life, a balance to its joys and pleasure. 

my dad expresses none of this, he's not up to date on my latest Taoist wisdom or my philosophy of the moment. He's alive, struggling, but still happy to be home, to draw another breath and see the morning rise to another day and all it offers. He's curious about right now; of his body's effort to find balance to the current topics of the day. He's alive on the very edge of dying. 

and teaches me this lesson. 

~

Peace, Eric