by Jean Roberta
Alas, I missed my day to post. And I’ve almost missed my day of grace (the day after my day to post and before the next regular blogger is due to post).
Here is the situation: through my spouse (who originally came to Canada as a political refugee from Chile), I know some other people in the local Spanish-speaking community, most of whom were also political refugees from various hot spots (Central America has been exporting people for decades). Spouse and I know a family in crisis: the parents came here in the 1970s, and raised two children who now have children of their own. The husband/father passed away over 10 years ago, and the widow has been declining in several ways ever since. Several months ago, a group of us realized that she needed urgent help, but we weren’t sure what to do. Despite her insistence that she didn’t need or want help/charity/interference, we got the son on board. Luckily, he has a key to his mother’s uninhabitable house, and with another member of the group, he got her to a hospital earlier this week. When she arrived, it wasn’t clear if she would live through the night.
The whole group, including me, has spent as much time as possible with the widow in the hospital, when we’re not at work. The events of this week have seemed like a telenovela, a Latin American soap opera. (Watching these dramas is the best way to learn Spanish, IMO.)
Is there a message in this real-life epic? I don’t know yet. Whether this play is a tragedy or a comedy will probably depend on the outcome. In any case, some of the details will probably find their way into something I write in the future.
For the meanwhile, please accept my apologies for not commenting on the writing process or the publishing biz. Sometimes life interferes.
My thoughts with you and your friend.
There are many things more important than a blog post. (Indeed, almost everything real is!)
I hope the situation resolves itself favorably. This woman is lucky to have a community who cares.
Thank you for your kind words, Rachel and Lisabet. Actually, the widow has shown amazing improvement since Monday. She has long-term multiple schlerosis, and I don't think there's a cure for that, but there are cures for bedbugs, bedsores and malnutrition! For the first few days, she was in isolation, and all visitors had to put on hospital gowns and rubber gloves just to enter her room, but she is now bug-free, and spending much of her time reading Isobel Allende's novels in Spanish, provided by my spouse Mirtha. She no longer refuses tests or treatment. (The son used some leverage by threatening to get her committed as mentally incompetent.) She seems to be rediscovering herself in her prime: a witty and outspoken human rights lawyer. (I've met her grandchildren, and they will probably be our best allies in helping the widow see that she has a future.) Watching a friend come back to life is a reward in itself.
We're in the middle of a continuing elder crisis too. Thank you for getting involved, and I'm glad she's improving.