Driving along the Indiana tollway en route to Chicago last weekend, my friend and I fell into a discussion about needing control in our lives. Greater entities and concepts such as time and space, which restricted our abilities to maneuver through the present infuriated us like nothing else could. We felt hopeless against these brute forces that could not be manipulated. No, we weren't smoking herb, just stuck in traffic, and relating how our control freak natures could do absolutely nothing to deliver us home. Just a small example of futility. That urge to preserve the stability in one's life and tame the chaos causes feelings of rage and sadness when it is overcome by extenuating circumstances and acts of god. Take a look. I use photographs to gauge what we cannot consciously measure: the ways in which our lives are constantly reshuffled and dealt. The first picture is of my parent's anniversary. I'm celebrating with them on a dinner cruise sailing along Chicago's Lake Michigan, the sun's halo manages to lasso us perfectly in this snapshot. Little more than a year later depicts our current struggles with simultaneous health conditions striking both of my parents.
This past year, I spent time away in Germany doing my own thing, cultivating experiences that are personally invaluable as much as it will sparkle for my résumé. When I returned, I was informed that my dad had suffered a stroke and had two brain operations to remove cancerous tumors. My mother was fighting her own battle when doctors discovered she was in the mid stages of having colon cancer. I returned with my duffle bags in hand to see my father in a hospital bed in our home, with tubes running out of my mother's arms. He had lost the ability to walk with half of his body paralyzed, and my mom was now going through chemo. Throughout the year, I had heard none of this, and during phone conversations, my mom said that everything was just dandy. I began to go through the standard cycles of shock - denial, anger, bargaining...well, not exactly sure who I would've bargained with, but maybe it was just a more advanced stage of denial. Finally came acceptance, and we have worked together to make things bearable. It's funny though, the first time I left home to participate in an artist's residency in Greece, my parents got divorced. I figured this would happen eventually, given their vitriolic arguments from the day I was born. When I went to study abroad, however, for my second leave from home, I returned to see that they were once again reunited, although still not under the law. Germany was my third excursion, and now they were both terminally ill. Doctors told my mother that my dad had anywhere from 6 months to 3 years to live. Her prognosis was slightly better at a range of 5-7 years. She is withholding this information from my dad, and I still don't know if I should tell him. Relatives think he will lose hope in his attempts to walk again if he knows that he is working under a limited contract, so to speak. Above all, of course these events have drawn my parents closer together again.
These images were taken by my aunt while I was away. It was one of their dates before my dad's stroke hit. This wasn't supposed to happen. My mom worked for over 30 years in the dry cleaning business, 7 days a week to put her life on hold until retirement. She never got to see the world, have many friends, or take a break due to her hectic 60 hour/wk schedule. Dad also put his life on hiatus, driving a bus for 25 years through numerous routes in Chicago, everyday the same dodging through traffic only to end up immobile after turning in his license. The station gave him a piece of paper as recognition for his service and dedication, but the ink apparently ran out on the printer, so the 'award' was only 75% printed. 25 years, and this is the best they can fucking give him? Yeah, so this is life, and everyone has to deal with mortality sooner or later. It's strange being an only child, though, and feeling like my family will just stop existing in a few years. My parent's unstable relationship has been ironically bolstered by their nearness to death, instead of their enjoyment for life, and my dad has already entered that second infantile stage that senior citizens do, although he's only 52. I help him go to the bathroom and have to shake his penis to make sure all the urine comes out. I can't help but think about this scene in the movie, The Princess and the Warrior, where a nurse of a mental institution takes pity on one of her patients and masturbates him to alleviate his pain. This is the last thought I want to have when I need to wipe my dad's butt, but nevertheless, I always think about that scene. I am also in a relationship and have been for over five years. We have recently entered into this open relationship status because we are both constantly traveling and following our own ambitions. He was with me to celebrate my mom's 49th birthday last year. I wonder if we will ever make it through the kinds of hardships our parents have faced. His parents also went through a messy divorce. I question the strength of family, and if one can be created beyond bloodlines. Sure, some boast that their friends, colleagues, and lovers are their TRUE families, completely self-built. However, I still hold onto this traditional notion of family as an ancestral lineage, a matter of blood. These two pictures were taken exactly a year apart. My mother looks so young and ready to take on life in the first photograph. The reality of her health is so apparent in the second. Not pictured here, is my dad, a former athlete and coach now huddled in his wheelchair, embarrassed and confused. When I think about all of this, in the end I feel suprisingly grateful. Grateful because I don't wish them dead, and I realize that I care for them more than I ever thought. I know others have strangely horriffic relationships with their families, and I can consider myself lucky that these people deeply affect my emotions in positive and negative ways. They do not make me feel apathetic, but rather show me that life isn't just about success and having interesting experiences, but it's also about genuine interactions and embracing the mundane. Maybe I don't have control in the outcome of all of this, but at least I realize now that control isn't so important anymore. |
