Who Is Your Master?

She:
Stands at his bedside and smiles. She is a small thing, dressed in a gray silk blouse and navy cotton slacks. Gray hair frames a lined face in carefully layered and teased curls. She must tip her stylist well. Not one hair runs astray. She holds her husbands hand and watches me explain to him again why he must take his breathing treatment.

He:
Frets and argues, not right in the head. He doesn’t understand. His feet hurt and he can’t remember me from thirty minutes ago. When she lets go of his hand for a moment his voice crescendos in anguish.

I:
Take my time with him. I talk gently, as to a small child, yet respectfully, as though he were in his right mind. I don’t lose my patience. I understand that he hears my instructions for the first time - every time.

She:
Thanks me for my patience and tells me that they will be going home today. She beams, although she will be his only caregiver most of the time.
“I’ll be glad to do it. He has been taking care of me all these years. It’s time to return the favor.”
Her smile is genuine. It radiates warmth and conviction. She has no doubt that life with him will tax her resources, but she wills herself strong. I look into her eyes and believe her. I give her as much information as I can, about home care, supplies, hiring good help, and she listens eagerly. There is more than patience in her voice, more than kindness, more than determination. It resonates with depth and devotion. Her bearing reveals pride and yet she bends in humility toward the patient in his hospital bed.

The Nurse:
Offers alternatives. Gives names and addresses of long term care facilities – nursing homes. Fooled by the lady’s frail appearance, says, “You are taking on too much.”

She:
Politely, but firmly rejects all efforts to find placement for him. She stands her ground with the grace of a warrior who speaks softly and yet will not yield. Fierce in her protection of him, she steps between him and the nurse.

He:
Anxiously reaches for her hand again and begs, “Please don’t leave! Don’t leave me.”

She:
Bends over the bed and whispers soothing words to ease his distress. “I’m right here, honey. I’m right here.”

I:
Am compelled to bow when I exit the room, recognizing a true Samurai, who embodies the spirit of the Code of Bushido.

***

We serve those whom we protect. We give our deepest loyalty to those who need us most. We shelter them with our strength and our will and we embrace them with our tenderness. A Samurai seeks to serve a master. If we live Samurai, we must devote ourselves to serve and we serve those who are in our most intimate care.

My son is my master. I step to his bedside each day and bring him the best of what I am. Those who wish to harm him I will tear asunder, while I welcome those who show him kindness and mercy. I speak only love to him who needs me so desperately. I am bonded to him with my life and my soul.

To live Samurai, you must find your master. You will bring to him or her your very best and serve him or her with all your heart and soul. Your master is your first priority. You will lay down your life and smile. You will serve and your heart will burn with joy.

When The Eleagnus Bloom

I step outside my carefully protected world, bare feet shrinking away from cold deck planks and shiver. Inside, rugs and insulated walls keep out the nip of fall, but now I invade nature and she gives quick reminders of her power.

Wind cuts through my thin shirt and reminds me of my jacket in the car. I curl icy toes and for once miss my shoes. Summer has faded.

Colors in my garden have streamlined into a uniform pattern. Mostly greens and browns now, only few golden spots remain where stubborn Zinnia refuse to give in. Mums bloom in warm reds and yellows and a few pansies smile between sage plants and grasses. The heavy rains have brought thick-headed mushrooms to the surface and their fleshy smell lingers in the garden next to the heavy, bitter odor of Chrysanthemums.

So what is this sweetness which assaults me then? What lurks on the wind lightly, sneaks into my awareness and makes me crave honey? I step farther into the chill autumn air and turn toward the Eleagnus hedge. Yes, there it is.

Tiny blooms, almost invisible to the eye, hide under silvery leaves and exhale fragrance. The sweetness assails me. It makes me dream of love and abundance. It makes my world spin.

I drink my fill of this fragrance. With nostrils wide, I breathe in all I can hold, again and again. I know this bloom is short lived and I must savor it. For moments, nothing else matters.

Living Samurai means living in the moment. While some believe, a Samurai must deny his or her feelings, this is not so. Right now, this very moment, I am filled with joy. I drink deeply from this joy for it is not permanent. A Samurai knows that all emotion is fleeting. A Samurai feels deeply but does not linger...does not linger.

Living in the moment allows us to be present and prepared for all eventualities. It gives a Samurai a fighting edge and it will give us decisiveness. If we do not linger, our thoughts and feelings are not rooted in the past and we are free to act appropriately, as needed.

For my patients, I feel deeply. Their well-being is my responsibility and their comfort is my duty. When they are distraught, I sense their pain. Their sadness and that of their families grieves me. Yet, I do not carry their grief away from the hospital. I am able to go home to my child and be fully present with him when my work day is done.

When the Eleagnus bloom, I find moments to breathe in the sweetness. When my son smiles, I take in the warmth of his joy. Were I to miss these powerful emotions, I would lack the strength of spirit to live my life effectively.

Living Samurai allows me the depths of emotion I need to color my world.