Kristin Graziano’s “Contents Have Shifted” considers how best to respond to a parent’s dementia-inflected reality. “For years,” Graziano observes about her mother, “I felt compelled to refute her falsehoods. I felt that by correcting her, I could yank her back to The Truth, to the real world. When I did this, sharp words with resentful tones followed, leaving us both frustrated and silent.”
Read moreOn Sinatra, Bach, and Daughters: The Power of True Joy in the Face of Illness
A medical student reflects on the loss of their father to a devastating neurodegenerative disease as well as the power that music can hold during the illness experience.
Read moreAbsences in Cortney Davis' "It Was the Second Patient of the Day"
A writer and father ponders the power of absence in the clinical encounter, as well as the power of presence.
Read moreThe Sense of Being Lost in the Face of Illness and Death
How does grace manifest itself in the clinical encounter? And what of eulogy and testimony? A psychiatrist-writer explores two poems published in this journal to find deeper meaning.
Read moreCaregiving: When the Patient is Your Mother. A Reflection by poet Brian Ascalon Roley
A writer revisits his childhood memories and, in doing so, reflects on the evolving relationship between parent and child as both grow older.
Read moreBecoming the Superheroes Our Parents Need: The Journey from Child to Worthy Caretaker by Usman Hameedi
Our parents are often our first examples of superheroes. They make gourmet meals from minimum wage, give hugs that vanquish our demons, and provide limitless love. They are impervious to damage or decay and are always ready to save our days. So, seeing the human in them, the mortality in their breath is unsettling. When they come to need us, we feel so grossly unprepared.
Read moreRemembering Fathers: Raspberry Picking, the Silence of Roses, and Taking a Breath: A reflection on two poems by Mark Hammerschick
Memory serves as an anchor in our lives, those brief, isolated moments of awe create a sense of warmth, safety, comfort.
Read moreDads, Daughters, Death by Pat Arnow
Pat Arnow is a photographer, writer, and more lately, a cartoonist in New York. She often writes and draws stories about death.Her artwork “A Death in Chicago, 1972: Elisabeth Kübler-Ross and My Family” appears in the Spring 2019 Intima: A Journal of Narrative Medicine.
A dad has cancer. He decides not to undergo a risky, possibly ineffective operation that might save him. His family supports his decision. He goes home to die.
Karen Dukess writes about this in “Day One of Dying” (Fall 2016) as if those choices were an everyday thing.
Well they are—now.
In this lovely memoir of a beloved father, it is striking to me how things have changed from when my dad faced terminal cancer in the early 1970s. Then the rule was maximum intervention no matter what the prognosis. No one would quibble with doctors. People died in hospitals.
That’s how the story begins in my comic, “A Death in Chicago, 1972: Elisabeth Kübler-Ross and My Family” (Spring 2019). As my father lay dying in a hospital bed, he received a remarkable visit from Kübler-Ross, who had recently written On Death and Dying. She allowed my dad to say out loud how he wanted to stop painful treatments and go home to die.
My father’s homecoming came on the cusp of change for the dying and for those close to them. We started talking about death. The hospice movement grew. There is help for what are still the hard and sad days of dying.
Yet so much is the same including the moments of grace. I recognized this lesson, a gift from our dads as Dukess describes it:
“Day 6 of Dying—I am becoming a better listener. Really, what can you say?”
Pat Arnow is a photographer, writer, and more lately, a cartoonist in New York. She often writes and draws stories about death.With “A Death in Chicago, 1972,” she tells the story of her father’s dying, which involved Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, because it’s a personal story from a time of momentous change in the way we think about death. Her artwork “A Death in Chicago, 1972: Elisabeth Kübler-Ross and My Family” appears in the Spring 2019 Intima: A Journal of Narrative Medicine.
© 2019 Intima: A Journal of Narrative Medicine