(Un)broken bonds
: wt 21 lis 2006 20:47
Lots of people die of a lack of bread,
but even more people die of a lack of love.
Mother Theresa from Calcutta
The question of responsibility has a very long tradition, first of all in the field of philosophy and ethics. In the field of psychology the notion of responsibility appeared thanks to humanistic psychologists who were interested in a human subjectivity, a human autonomy and inner freedom, the need of self-determination and fulfillment, whereas mainly social psychologists contributed to the popularization of the question of responsibility – social psychologists who investigated, using empirical methods, such phenomena connected with responsibility as perceived freedom of choice, attribution of the causality of occurrences, a sense of personal authorship of an action, a sense of influence on occurrences, a sense of control and self-control etc. The most generally you can assent that a sense of responsibility is expressed by social psychologists in principle in pragmatic terms as one of aspects of the rational causally-consecutive process of organization of subjective action. There is another, independent of the pragmatic expression of the question of responsibility, the cognitively-developmental expression, represented in the field of psychology by L. Kohlberg and J. Piaget (1967) .
In the area of the developmental current, the phenomenon of responsibility is considered as a moral category, which is in direct quality connection with the sphere of the notional and formal-logical thinking. Responsibility is defined by development psychologists as the cognitive relation between the human action and the moral value, as a way of the cognitive expression of subjective sources of an action, its conditions and moral consequences. The basis of some kinds of moral behavior, and of experience of consciousness of responsibility is (considering the cognitively-developmental expression) a defined stage of mental development which lets an individual understand and recognize values and moral rules. Except for the pragmatic expression of the phenomenon of responsibility - represented by social psychologists, and the cognitive expression – characteristic of development psychology, you can indicate another expression which is defined as existential – considering the specific character. It has become deep-rooted in the field of humanistic psychology, which refers to the idea of existentialism and phenomenology. In accordance with this expression, responsibility is a global, complex state of the human mind, an inner experience, the experience which appears thanks to peculiarly human susceptibility – the moral susceptibility which includes as well cognitive as emotional and intuitive processes. The moral susceptibility determines the perception of values, the experience of them and the willingness to manifestation of them, in other words – doing right.
M. Straś-Romanowska mentions the conception of M. Nowicka-Kozioł , according to which a sense of responsibility is a kind of willingness to take the consequences of choices considering a sense of duties of defined tasks, and considering feeling guilty in case those tasks are not performed. M. Nowicka-Kozioł specifies the following requirements for a sense of responsibility: consciousness, to have at least a bit of freedom and possibilities to make the choice, to understand and accept moral rules. You might to add another requirement, namely – the possibility to experience the consequences of your own choices.
The authors perform the subjective and individual dimension of a sense of responsibility for a disabled ninety-year-old person. The experiences which result from the consequences of the choice (undertaking of looking after the mother) have become the reason for the subjective definition of the consciousness of a sense of life.
In the area of psychological research, the consciousness of a sense of life is mostly measured, not only a sense as such. The fact of understanding of the notion “a sense of life” is far less explicit. Whereas the notion “a sense” indicates the subjective and individual dimension of the consciousness of a sense of life, only a sense of life can be considered in two ways. This term can be referred to life “in general”, life as such, and it can be associated with the human life or a life of the particular person. The question of a sense of life (regarding life “in general”) was mostly considered in the field of philosophy. The interest of arts concentrates on a sense of the human life and a sense of life of particular individuals .
The author of the autobiography recalls memories from the past (blocked out for many years) – as Israil Metter (a prominent Russian prosaist) writes: “In fact, when people become mature, not many of them realize how their personality was formed, what way led them to the explication of their outlook on life, and to the determination of pleasure. […] Something indefinable influenced them like “fly-paper”… In the author’s case, ten year’s time of looking after her disabled mother was the reason to start looking for a sense of life. In her opinion the reason for motivation is a tendency of a human organism to the self-realization. This tendency can be expressed in the widest spectrum of kinds of behavior and in the reaction to different needs. First, some defined basic needs are fulfilled (they come before the others). In this particular case, in addition to a sense of responsibility, the tendency to fulfill a need of love occurred. After that it was the time when the great willingness to tell about her own life (that is to say an autobiographical thought) occurred . The authors encourage to get to know the individual biographical study, such a form of thinking about their own existence which accompanies a human to the end of their life, the secret presence of this form inspires with consideration and meditation, whereas the evocation of memories can become a sense and the overriding value of life.
Besides methods of treatment of the disabled ninety-year-old person, the article includes the author’s inner dilemmas, which she struggled with at the first close meeting with her mother.
***
Aged 17, I left my family home, suffering from a lack of maternal love. For 30 years I visited my mother on the occasion of holidays or more often. At that time I got married, I gave birth to my two sons, I went through the break-up of my family and the loss of my older son (because he decided to stay with his father), I enabled my younger son to be educated. After his graduation I resumed my studies, which I finished when I was 44 years old, just then I got married for the second time.
When I was lacking in maternal love, I was at my Father’s grave – at that time nobody remembered Him. I healed the damage relevant to my divorce, the separation one son from another, the loss of the estate caused by the flood, and my husband’s sudden disease. My contact with my Father was not so close when I got to know (aged 44) that I was an illegitimate child, that piece of news had a paralyzing effect on me, after some time I came to the conclusion that it was unimportant what my patronymic name was – all the people (who I have known for years) knew who I was and I knew who my parents were. He helped me decide to look after my mother. In common with Him I was taking important for me decisions, which at the beginning seemed to be unreal, after some time they turned out to be right. Frequent visits at my Father’s, after which I was gathering strength and becoming self-confident, caused that I worked up my life philosophy. I believed that my Father watched over me, I learned to draw positive conclusions in every difficult situation.
In that (difficult for me) period of time Mr. and Mrs. Wielgosz helped me, after some time they became my second parents and I became their fourth daughter – I could always rely on them, I could, and at present, I can still seek advice from them and unbosom my grief to them.
During consecutive visits my mother (then she was 87 years old) took a pillow and said that she wanted to go with me. She was neglected, undernourished, she was not able to stand on her legs without any help. For a little I was silent and amazed when I saw my mother’s appealing glance but I hugged her and took her home.
During one and a half year’s stay at our place my mother built up her strength – she was able to move without a walking stick and walk down the stairs, we both went for a walk to the park and to church. Some day she said she wanted to come back to her own house. Now I think that my mother came to me because of a lack of love from her children and grandchildren to whom she devoted her own life. I was also suffering from a lack of parental love for years, for years I was trying to erase that painful period of time from my memory, I did not revert in thought to my childhood. The meeting with my mother made me look back on my childhood, loneliness, refusal, grief.
Now I know, when we met each other for the first time, my mother felt coldness from me, I was not able to hide that. I tried to persuade her to stay, she did not want to. I drove my mother to her house. She looked good and well-fed, though sadness was in her eyes. I still visited her. When I came, she said that she felt good, I was not able to understand – how she could feel good, once again she was neglected, nobody talked to her, actually she was alone, my siblings and my mother’s grandchildren treated her like an inconvenient thing, however she felt good. She had had better conditions at me before, I had looked after her, she had been clean, I had given her cooked meals, however at last she was back at (her) house. In a later period of time I understood her. She had come to me to avoid loneliness and helplessness, she had wanted someone to need her, at that time I was not able to satisfy her. At our place, she had had everything except love, my pain had been greater than other feelings. She was not loved at her house, but it was her house. After every visit my grief became more intense. I thought she had come to me “to take”, not to give anything, I was wrong, it was my fault – I had not let her be close to me, moreover she had been alone in the strange house for eight hours a day, she had been watching cars and first of all she had missed the village green, after work I had hardly talked to her. Then I understood her situation but it was too late. She had gone in June and in July… the flood – the loss of the estate, my husband’s disease (a pension). I had to support my family.
I still visited my mother, during consecutive visits, like previously, keeping a pillow she came to me and said she wanted to be with me. I asked myself a question, deep in thought: why me, after all she had given everything and herself to my siblings. Moreover, my sister was retired and I was working. Did she want to die at me? She was 90 years old. I knew her devotion to her house was great. I looked at my sad and neglected mother, I saw her blank expression in her eyes – I made a decision, I had to…
A month later she fell over and broke her right leg at the hip-joint, a month’s stay at hospital. She was waiting for surgery for two weeks. Two weeks later she fell ill with bronchitis, cured of it she was taken to the operating theatre and during the preparation for surgery complications of heart were found – this surgery was canceled.
In the hospital I visited her after work every day, I spent all my time with her until late. I talked to her and fed her. I observed nurses for a few days and I learned how to keep hygienic conditions by myself. She was waiting for me – the patients who shared a room with my mother said so – she livened up and looked at the door at about four o’clock p.m.
I knew she was not allowed to stay at hospital endlessly (she got tranquillizers – she seemed to be absent). I also knew that I did not have to look after her by myself, that I could have taken her to the village or to the hospice and I would have been absolved by the community, after all I had not received from her, she had given me only birth – but what about me – what about my conscience. And at the same time some thoughts haunted me if I could manage – a new job which involved commitment, the support of my family (my husband was on a pension) and my mother. It was a very tiring, long month in my life. At last I felt tired more of indecision than of everyday visits in the hospital and of my work. I understood: “If I do not fight for her life she will die”. Someone would say she has come up to a great age and in fact she could die. At one time I had thought the same. Now I know that I can think and say in that way until it does not concern me. I took my mother home.
The period of time I spent with my mother in the hospital, added another dimension to my childhood. From the innermost recesses of my memory – my childhood memories appeared from another perspective – the perspective of my love of my mother. I think my love of my mother – according to the maxim of the Cardinal Stefan Wyszyński – was tested like gold in fire at our first meeting, the second meeting confirmed the following words of the maxim – only slight love cannot be lasting in case you go through an ordeal. Great love becomes cleared and flares up. I remembered that I was always free, I made choices by myself, so I was training myself in self-independence and responsibility. I looked with love at my sleepy mother, I recalled that when I had fallen ill (then I had been 10 years old) and the doctor had diagnosed: “kidneys, it is no good treating, anyway she will die”, my mother had not grudge money, she had paid for a month’s stay at hospital, she had visited me, her decision had saved my life. I left elementary school. Because I failed the examination to get to the pedagogical high school, I decided to start studying at another high school to become a hairdresser – my mother found money and paid for my training at the hairdresser’s. Two years later I resigned that school. I decided to take a course in typing – once again my mother paid for one year’s course. After all, I continually changed my interests, that would tire any parent. The period of my childhood, hidden in the back of my mind, was released and my love of my mother was back, I was free from tiring me for years ties. “Where love reigns, there is light and an endless day” (Father Tadeusz Olszański). “Where great love is, miracles always occur” (Willa Cather). Thanks to my regained love of my mother I appraise the past and the present positively, I think that the Guardian Angel took care of me. New positive memories made the future clear. Then I realized that I met the great people on my way. I would like to thank them in the second part of this text – thanks to THOSE PEOPLE I managed to go through difficult moments and regain faith in my strength.
I prepared the room – I borrowed a hospital bed and a wheelchair, my husband installed a television set (my mother likes watching natural films). My day starts at 5.30, I make milk soup and something to drink – when the soup becomes cool, I change my mother’s clothes. Talking to my mother, I feed her and then I go to work. After work, coming in I greet my mother warmly, I say that I have just come back and I am going to come to her as soon as I change my clothes. She smiles and says: “well, just come”. I need a half an hour to have a rest. Then both my husband and I carry her onto the wheelchair and take her to the room. At that time I make dinner, my mother does not take her eyes off me (perhaps not off me – she is happy when she can see an active person). She asks me questions which I cannot sometimes understand but absolutely I must answer and look at her – that is the most important for her. I serve dinner, talking to my mother I feed her – it is not important what I say, this contact with my mother is essential, that I pay very careful attention to her, she is willing to eat. If the weather is nice, after dinner she spends the time on the balcony and watches children playing in the sandpit, then she smiles. Just then I watch TV, read or clean the house, now and then I give my mother something to drink. At about 18.00 – 19.00 we carry her to her bed, sometimes she wants to lie down earlier. At about 21.00 I wash my mother and massage her back.
The problem was getting dirty. I had to find an answer to that problem, what could make her do something especially with her left hand. At first, I gave her color-books but that activity tired her (partial paresis of the right arm). A ball of wool, which she was able to unwind and wind again, was better but not quite. I tried to talk to my mother, explain and show her dirty bedclothes and dirty hands – she promised not to get dirty but later she forgot.
Two months later, in the beginning red and then navy blue marks appeared on her skin, despite massage and compresses the septic process occurred. I decided to take her to the hospital, I tried to do that (the reform referred to the National Health Service) but there was no free place – I fought against death for two months, discharging pus and its stench could be smelled in the whole house, that made me have different moods – surrender and at the same time protest – why does she have to die in such a way? I could not live in the house where my mother would die of the advanced septic process. At last there was a free place at hospital and my mother was taken to the hospital, on that day the amputation of one leg was done (quite well).
In the evening my mother regained consciousness, with great sadness in her eyes she looked at me, hugged and said: “you are here”. Her leg healed well after that surgery. This time I visited my mother twice a day (in the morning before work and in the afternoon after work), I gave her medicines which she did not want to take from nurses. She did not want to eat either. The doctor removed drains and diagnosed that her state of health was good, a week later my mother was discharged from hospital. She only had stitches.
My mother felt better at home than at hospital. A week later a community nurse removed stitches, the injury healed without complications. Washing my mother, I pretended not to notice a lack of one leg. I am sensitive and also dynamic, when my husband and I carry my mother onto a wheelchair, I tie one leg of her trousers, my tenderness and decisiveness make my mother feel good and safe. At hospital the doctors had diagnosed advanced diabetes – they had recommended her a diet and prescribed a lot of medicines, I tried to do everything as directed. However my mother did not want to take any medicines and any recommended food. If she had not eaten any more, she would have lost appetite. I tried to imagine myself in her place and at last I came to the conclusion that I also would like to eat something what I liked – I changed menu – breakfast: milk soup sweetened enough (because my mother did not eat it with no sugar) and tea; dinner: (in the beginning I cooked soup, mashed everything, I did not sometimes manage to cook a meal so tasty for my mother, she spat it out, she did not want to eat any more. I became nervous because I put a lot of effort in order to make a meal, and in the end I threw it away) cooked pork – ham (I mince meat), I add a little ready-made meal (a half of a jar – for example lamb and vegetables), I add also a roll, adding a ready-made meal (chicken soup) I melt everything and heat, tea or juice to drink. A wide range of available ready-made products enables to make various meals for dinner. After some time my mother gets a banana or donuts. She eats with relish.
The problem of getting dirty occurred again. It was because actually my mother did nothing special with her hands. I looked for anything in the medical shops, where I did not find any help. I decided to buy a doll with clothes which could be taken off. At first she was outraged, she said that she was not a child. I put a doll on a shelf, on the right-hand side (my mother was not able to raise her right arm) so my mother could see that doll. I thought she would be interested in it and take it with her right hand. So that happened. I was observing her when she made efforts to raise and align her right arm. Before I went to work I had put a doll on her right-hand side. Every time she managed to take a doll by herself (when I was at work my husband looked after her). Now she can do everything with her right hand – she can reach for a doll and change its clothes, she talks to it and takes care of it. When we take my mother to another room, she has got her doll all the time. If she does not want to eat I say that “he” (a doll – a boy) has just eaten – then she eats with relish. My mother can be an example that even in old age it is possible to test a phenomenon of anticipation to show a positive effect. Because she can do everything with her right hand properly, she can also move from one side of her bed to another. However the process of motor involution is inevitable. I think we should try to use the willingness to be active (existing deeply in the human mind), even in a small. This activity is worth the effort and worthy care of a human. Moreover, the process of irreversible and gradually progressing reduction in the number of active cells in the most important organs (for example in the brain or muscles) goes with the old age . I cannot inhibit the reduction of the cells in the brain, I can only try to make this process late, so I remind my mother of songs which she learned to sing when she was young – she recalls words and can sing, while a doll was the reason that my mother can raise her right hand, what’s more her faith in her strength, a sense of life and satisfaction have come back. Simultaneously the problem of getting dirty has disappeared.
On the turn of January/February 2002, at night my mother started to vomit and had a high fever. I called for an ambulance, the doctor diagnosed influenza and wanted to take my mother to hospital. I did not agree because I remembered her previous stays at hospital. I signed my statement but the doctor warned me I could not hope that my old mother would recover. Because of my duties at work I was not allowed to be on a sick leave or on holiday. Faith in the desire for life of my mother and faith in my strength caused that in the end my mother recovered. Despite a high fever (40°C) my mother was carried onto the wheelchair, in order to reduce fever I gave her suppositories and put cold compresses on her hands, I changed wet underclothes, when she was in bed I put rolled towels under her back, I gave a massage twice a day (in the morning and in the evening), I often gave her something to drink. When I was at work, my husband took the place of me, I advised him on the phone. Because my mother longed to be with me, I hung my photos everywhere. Until now my photos make my mother feel as if I am present at home. I discharged my duties at work and… we both managed to cope with flu.
One year later my mother was taken ill again. I called for an ambulance and the doctor diagnosed pneumonia. Once again I did not agree to take my mother to hospital, this time the doctor was amazed and asked if I realized that she could die. I asked him to prescribe a liquid antibiotic. However, because of that diagnosis I was not able to sleep all night, I was getting ready for my mother’s death. I did everything like in the previous case (of flu), only I had to give my mother an antibiotic. Two weeks later she recovered.
I do not mention what medicines I gave. On the strength of my experience and tested methods of treatment of my mother I can say that the best cure (in this individual case) is PTL – patience, thoughtfulness and love.
PTL as a principal method of care for my mother has been a good influence on me. In the introduction of my paper I have described my inner dilemmas which caused my doubts – to care for my mother or not. I have written – she gave me only birth, now I know that she gave me even life – thanks to her I could live well, and I think that also thanks to my mother I can achieve even more. When I was a child, my mother told me how I had been born – apparently I did not show any signs of life, my birth was delivered at home, a midwife asked my mother if she wanted her baby to be alive, my mother answered that since her baby had been born let the baby live – poverty, support for another child caused those doubts, she knew that those days nobody would judge her and have no grudge against her. However, she made a good decision. I am the very picture of my mother – I think, therefore we were not both able to create a friendly relationship with each other. When my mother decided to be under my care in the most difficult for her period of time (she resigned everything – what she had achieved before), she proved that she always had faith in me – it was worth going through the way which was fated – the way full of life experience.
Exactly this faith helps me cope with difficult situations referred to my family, my work and to my mother’s disease. I have been looking after my mother for ten years. Now I have grandchildren – so my family has four generations, I have two mothers and one father – my seconds parents have to take part in the family celebrations.
I read the Bible, “Modlitwy i rozważania na każdy dzień roku” by the Pope John Paul II. His words play a great role in my life and add me wings. On the 27 July 2004 to the address of John Paul II, I sent my thanks to the people who were (and now they are still) very important for me. On the 13 August 2004 I received from the Vatican State a written confirmation of the reception of my letter and a promise of a prayer of the Holy Father for my intention. Now I regret sending this letter so late. I am sorry that I did not manage to thank the Holy Father personally. Below I quote the content of my letter which I sent to the Holy Father.
***
The Holy Father, I am fifty-three years old, I have been looking after my 97-year-old mother. When I was 17 years old, I left my family home because of a lack of maternal love, so long years of my life with no maternal love did not let me judge myself properly. For those years a few important people played a significant role in my life. I will be very grateful to them to the end of my life, thanks to them I have understood that a human not always gets what they deserve but what is the best for them.
The Holy Father, for long years I was sure that fate was unfair to me, I had a grudge against my parents, my siblings, I left my family home. I wanted to set up my own family. I got married, I wanted my family to be full of love. Unfortunately, I did not cope again. I thought that it was something wrong with me, that I could not be loved. Then my marriage was broken up, I was only with my younger son, my love of my child saved me. Thanks to him my life has made sense.
In order to show respect for the people who are very important for me I divided my life into a few periods.
Childhood, early-youth
The Parish-Priest (the Roman Catholic Parish under the invocation of the Assumption of the Holy Virgin; Bagno 31 – the turn of 50s/60s) was the first person whom my impulsive temperament did not shocked. He could listen to me, He let me tell the biblical stories my own way and led me skillfully. Thanks to Him I have learned to distinguish good from evil.
The Count, the elderly man who lived in Osola. I feel grateful to Him for an unusual imagination. When I was a child, I used to sell eggs. He let me sit down on the comfortable armchair and told me about his own life. I imagined myself with Him in those places about which He told. He lent me books.
Youth (marriage, a high school, work)
Aged 19, I got married and settled in Wrocław, I started to study at high school.
The Teacher of Polish (the IVth High School). When I was at elementary school, I used to write poems and send them to the magazine “Nowa Wieś”. Because any editor did not write back to me, my teachers also did not pay attention to it (I got low marks for Polish), I did not know my own capabilities. The high school - the Teacher of Polish, who (in my opinion) overvalued my penmanship and made me have faith in my abilities. He led me to Polish studies but I still did not have faith in my capabilities unlike He did. I applied to start extramural studies – Russian studies.
Thanks to an employment agency I started to work in the line of sport (the turn of 70s/80s). I was in luck – my superior had a high opinion of people who were hard-working. During his chairmanship I got to know the character of work in all the sections and the regional unions. I got extra pay and awards for my all additional new duties connected with my work. Thanks to my superior my efforts were appreciated in the Provincial Administration Offices and the Committee of PZPR - the former party in Poland (I never belonged and now I do not belong to any union). I learned to be responsible, reliable and organized. I interrupted my Russian studies, I passed the exam and started extramural studies at the University School of Physical Education, which I also interrupted because of family affairs. Now, just before retirement, more often and more often I mention my first boss – I think that my earnings of that period will make my future pension high.
The divorce, the loss of contact with my older son – the worst period of my life. I was with my younger son, I did not get any alimony – I did not try to get it, I thought that it was only money that I was able to earn by myself. I did not live on social security, I was ashamed of my poverty so much. I was many times at the door of the house of the Metropolitan of Wrocław and I went away, somehow I managed to find a way out of that situation. That trap led me to my Father – at the grave I tried to comfort myself, just there I made decisions which I realized with energy.
One couple (who I met when I was working in the line of sport) made up for a lack of parental love. Genevieve has been my second mother to the present day and John – my second father. She brought me something for breakfast to my work, I was invited by Them for the traditional Christmas-Eve supper. Now I still keep in touch with Them and if it is necessary I can still rely on their help.
The Metropolitan of Wrocław (my son received the sacrament of Confirmation from the Cardinal). He was in good contact with other people, so for many difficult years He was for me that Person to whom I went for help but when I was near the cathedral, I resigned because my problem was money. I came to the conclusion that there were lots of people like me, so I had to cope with that problem by myself. Now I am convinced that I was getting a helping hand in an unusual way, I obtained a sideline. I often thanked the Cardinal in my thoughts.
My younger son left elementary school and passed the examination to study at high school, I was happy then. I described my son’s education in “Droga do akademickiego kształcenia pedagogicznego”. I changed a job. I have been working at the University School of Physical Education until now.
Maturity
The University School of Physical Education – I managed a secretary’s office of the Administrative Director and a secretary’s office of the Institute of Pedagogics, Psychology and Theory of Education for the following ten years.
My superior was Professor who appreciated highly educated people with high qualifications also having the administrative position. I order to meet His requirements, I started my studies at the University of Wrocław at the Institute of Pedagogics, which I finished with a very good grade.
Working at the University School of Physical Education, I got to know the great people who had a high opinion of my organizing-administrative abilities and now at any moment I can count on them to help me out with writing a doctor’s thesis on its merits.
Professor – the Medical University of Wrocław. I got to know Her when I was working at the Pedagogics and Psychology Department. First we met only when I had to write out Her texts. I approached every task reliably. I did it accurately and in due time.
My son finished studies and set up his own family. I got married for the second time. The flood caused the loss of the estate – my husband had his own business. We were not insured. My husband was unemployed. When I was exhausted (studies, work, typing in the evenings and at nights), I told my husband and my son: “If I do not come back home, I will be somewhere in Africa and look after the elderly, at last I will not be interested in earning money to support my family”. It was fated I had a chance… I took my sick mother home. My husband fell ill with epilepsy.
When I finished my studies (thinking about my future pension), I changed a job at the University. First I worked at dean’s office, one year later I started to work at the Didactics Department (I have been working at this department until now).
The skills - developed when I was working in the line of sport and at the Pedagogics and Psychology Department - have been very useful for me on the new position. My superior was demanding so much that not everybody was able to meet His requirements. However, He appreciated my work. I feel grateful to Him for my present position and what is the most important, after the change of authorities I could count on Him to help me. I have been working at this department for nearly eight years and I still get His support when I have to solve difficult problems connected with my work.
I was in contact with Professor from the Medical University in that period of time. I shared my problems with Her. She always had time for me, I could phone Her in the evenings and talk to Her. I never asked anybody for any financial help, I needed conversation and acceptance. It was a difficult for me period of time, I felt that I had to be close to my sick mother and my husband, I knew that I could not be ill and that I had to do something. Just then Professor gave me a helping hand, she proposed me to write the text and deliver this text during a conference entitled “Science and Religion”. The conference was started by His Eminence Cardinal, it was some kind of miraculous cure for me. Because as usual I hardly had faith in my strength – moreover, I wrote this text in the form of autobiography (a rare form as far as Polish science is concerned), the book entitled “Alternatywne nurty we współczesnej pedagogice” heartened me up, I sent my text to the Author. I received the confirmation and I had not any doubts about the form of my papers. The text was of interest to everyone, I met volunteers who worked at hospices and people who let their parents stay at home for the aged. I did not realize how much texts written in the form of biography were necessary.
Managing the Didactics Department, simultaneously I replaced a secretary at the rector’s office. The Rector of that time observed me at work – quickness, reliability, responsibility – He was lavish of praise and financial awards. He was the first reviewer of my following articles. I paid by myself for participation in conferences but subsequent trips were financed by the University. The Rector (an anesthetist) advised me how to look after my mother and suggested ways of care for her skin, how to avoid any bedsore. The elections at the University were due to take place, because I was tired of duties at home and at work I got depressed (“Indywidualne sposoby walki z depresją”).
Wrong diagnoses (a stroke, multiple sclerosis), verified by the following doctors, caused anxiety tension and the result was depression. I decided to appeal for help to the Brothers of the Order of St John of God. Herbs and some infusion of herbs steeped in alcohol of neurosis were helpful for me. Now I think that the Person of Father Grande helped me. His words that irrespective of prescribed herbs if I can regain my balance it depends on me. I regained control of myself. After one year of struggle I coped with that. More important still, in that difficult period of time I did not forget about my family. There was yet another challenge ahead of me, which I had to cope with.
For those years I was in contact with my older son, who lived with my ex-husband and his new family (I described that period of time in “Między wolnością a przymusem”), why did I describe that? For myself, I wanted to cope with and accept years of marriage (erased from my memory). I sent this text to the Holy Father in order to understand me and my complicated life. When I wrote it, I came to the conclusion that I could not publish that, I could not do it for the sake of the children from my husband’s new relationship. While I was writing this text, I went through (on paper) that period. Afterwards my fear of meeting my ex-husband during family celebrations disappeared.
Because I met so many friendly people at very difficult for me moments of my life, I tried to give the others what I had got. When I was working in the line of sport I helped contestants, at the University School of Physical Education I help students. On my way I met a young woman with her child. In this case I also wanted to help. I wondered how to help her (I knew that money which she could have got from me was not a good option), I thought about what would have let me forget and create conditions for the baby if I had been in her place. Under the influence of the episode of the Polish serial entitled “Plebania” about a young woman working in the house of ill fame (which reminded me the situation of that young woman I met), the Person of the Cardinal came to my mind, I thought that work at the hospice would let the young woman (I met) come back to normal life. I took a folder with published texts (until now I do not know why I did so). This time I did not turn back, I waited patiently. Lots of people were waiting for the meeting the Cardinal, everyone had flowers and was clothed like for the ceremony… and me… well, I was the first person in the queue, I came in. I saw the nice and calm Person of His Eminence, when He asked me: “Can I help you?” I was not able to answer. I told about a desire to write a doctor’s thesis and that without His help I could not manage to do it, I was employed on the administrative position, I wanted to write about the elderly, about my mother. The Holy Father, I got “a ticket” from His Eminence. I went out and had again great faith that I could do it. I will help that young woman by myself (I write about my help in “Między wolnością a przymusem”). But I was also annoyed with myself for a lack of courage. It tired me for a very long time. The television and the radio informed about the Cardinal’s birthday. I thought it was a good occasion for greetings and telling the purpose of my visit. I wrote that, I got a reply and a blessing “for all good and noble intentions”. Thank you, the Cardinal.
Professor (the Medical University) – as I mentioned above, she was always ready to help. When my younger son’s daughter was born, a critical condition, I phoned Professor. She arrived at the hospital and helped, so the baby has still been alive, nice little Marta. In return for help she invited me to the conference. It was about motor activity of the disabled, I tried to convince Professor that I had no experience in working with young people. She asked me for the preparation of theoretical description. Thanks to her direction I wrote the text which appeared in the columns of literature referred to that conference. This text will always remind me of struggle for my daughter’s life and of Professor, an unusual woman. Thank you, Professor.
The acceptance of His Eminence, my mother’s love gave me strength, energy, faith and let my life make sense. I decided to find a professor conferring a degree for my doctor’s thesis. I asked Professor, the sociologist at the University of Wrocław, He agreed. I wrote the request to the present Rector of the University School of Physical Education for the finance to start doctoral studies – the University will finance 50% of the cost, my professor conferring a degree resigned his fee. The Holy Father, I have never dreamed about that, I have started doctoral studies at the University of Wrocław (the Pedagogics Institute). I believe in signs – I started doctoral studies on the 26 May (Mother’s Day), can it be by chance? One month later (in June) my younger son started his doctoral studies as well. I am happy.
The reform referred to the National Health Service – my husband was taken a pension. At that time I was offered a sideline. The Holy Father, how not to believe in something extraordinary, indeed I work Monday to Saturday but I have means of support for my family.
Towards the close of a period of my working activity, I have been working the same time like I started to work in the line of sport. I thank the Providence that I was given unusual strength for survival.
I thank my biological and those second parents, all the people who I met on my way of life. I thank for that I was able to go through just such a life, I get ready for the old age, if I had got everything earlier, perhaps I could not have appreciated. Moreover, what would be ahead of me? At one time I used to dream about touring, now I know that I do not have to leave in order to know the world. My “light” is my family home. I have gone a long way in order to return with pleasure to the place I escaped from. The Holy Father, I understand words: “The effort is necessary for a human to experience happiness of self-control and overcoming obstacles and difficulties” and words of Mother Theresa from Calcutta: “Lots of people die of a lack of bread, but even more people die of a lack of love”.
Giving the example of me, I can confirm the words of T. Dołęga-Mostowicz: “Happiness lasts as long as a human values it properly. And only such a thing has a value for them which they acquired with difficulty”. And the excellent maxim of the Holy Father: “Love and service let our life make sense and be wonderful because we know whom we sacrifice it”. Now I know that I got from my life what is the best for me.
The Holy Father, I wish you the best, energy to give faith and strength to people these difficult days. The Person and words of the Holy Father so often gave me strength to struggle, especially the words (I do not remember the whole quotation) but at the moments when I have to take difficult decisions I hear: “Do not be afraid…”
The purpose of my letter is to pay tribute to the people to whom I am very grateful, and to portray (in the form of published texts) an individual life of a human on whose way numerous obstacles sometimes appeared. Perhaps my life can be helpful for other people (who are in the similar situation and want to make the right choice): “When you stay at the crossroads, consider the rightness of your even choice” or/and can make them self-confident.
***
The autobiographical thought, as D. Demetrio writes, is also a state of the soul, an unusual and quite rare state (considered as specific kind of mercy). The moment, when the need to tell about life appeared, does not refer only to inward processes, it is far more complicated phenomenon. The autobiographical thought sometimes refers to ordeals, some mistakes, wasted opportunities and disappointment, which a human has to live with, therefore you can admit that to be a specific form of alliance and suspension confronted with the past. The question is – like in case of this presented autobiography - in order to form a positive attitude to the ordeals you go through because in fact a life is the only, lasting love being fated.
Literature
Demetrio D., Autobiografia. Terapeutyczny wymiar pisania o sobie. Impuls. Kraków 2000.
Nowicka-Kozioł M., Poczucie odpowiedzialności jako aspekt podmiotowy. Wydawnictwo Akademickie Żak, Warszawa 2000.
Smolińska-Mlak J., Droga do poznania siebie – doświadczenia własne.
Adv.Clin.Exp.Med., 2001, 10, 2, Suppl. 1, 115-118.
Smolińska-Mlak J., Droga do akademickiego kształcenia pedagogicznego. Rocznik Edukacji Alternatywnej 2001, 1 (01).
Smoliński A., Smolińska-Mlak J., Indywidualne sposoby walki z depresją, [w:] J.Kojkoł, P.J. Przybysz (red.) Edukacja wobec integracji europejskiej. Akademia Marynarki Wojennej, Gdynia 2004.
Straś-Romanowska M., Kubiś F., Poczucie odpowiedzialności osób z upośledzeniem umysłowym w stopniu lekkim jako jeden z czynników warunkujących jakość życia, [w:] Jakość życia dzieci i młodzieży niepełnosprawnej w Polsce i w krajach Unii Europejskiej. Polskie Towarzystwo Walki z Kalectwem, Wrocław 2004.
Zając L., Psychologiczna sytuacja człowieka starszego oraz jej determinanty, [w:] K.Obuchowski (red.) Starość i osobowość. Akademia Bydgoska, Bydgoszcz 2002.
but even more people die of a lack of love.
Mother Theresa from Calcutta
The question of responsibility has a very long tradition, first of all in the field of philosophy and ethics. In the field of psychology the notion of responsibility appeared thanks to humanistic psychologists who were interested in a human subjectivity, a human autonomy and inner freedom, the need of self-determination and fulfillment, whereas mainly social psychologists contributed to the popularization of the question of responsibility – social psychologists who investigated, using empirical methods, such phenomena connected with responsibility as perceived freedom of choice, attribution of the causality of occurrences, a sense of personal authorship of an action, a sense of influence on occurrences, a sense of control and self-control etc. The most generally you can assent that a sense of responsibility is expressed by social psychologists in principle in pragmatic terms as one of aspects of the rational causally-consecutive process of organization of subjective action. There is another, independent of the pragmatic expression of the question of responsibility, the cognitively-developmental expression, represented in the field of psychology by L. Kohlberg and J. Piaget (1967) .
In the area of the developmental current, the phenomenon of responsibility is considered as a moral category, which is in direct quality connection with the sphere of the notional and formal-logical thinking. Responsibility is defined by development psychologists as the cognitive relation between the human action and the moral value, as a way of the cognitive expression of subjective sources of an action, its conditions and moral consequences. The basis of some kinds of moral behavior, and of experience of consciousness of responsibility is (considering the cognitively-developmental expression) a defined stage of mental development which lets an individual understand and recognize values and moral rules. Except for the pragmatic expression of the phenomenon of responsibility - represented by social psychologists, and the cognitive expression – characteristic of development psychology, you can indicate another expression which is defined as existential – considering the specific character. It has become deep-rooted in the field of humanistic psychology, which refers to the idea of existentialism and phenomenology. In accordance with this expression, responsibility is a global, complex state of the human mind, an inner experience, the experience which appears thanks to peculiarly human susceptibility – the moral susceptibility which includes as well cognitive as emotional and intuitive processes. The moral susceptibility determines the perception of values, the experience of them and the willingness to manifestation of them, in other words – doing right.
M. Straś-Romanowska mentions the conception of M. Nowicka-Kozioł , according to which a sense of responsibility is a kind of willingness to take the consequences of choices considering a sense of duties of defined tasks, and considering feeling guilty in case those tasks are not performed. M. Nowicka-Kozioł specifies the following requirements for a sense of responsibility: consciousness, to have at least a bit of freedom and possibilities to make the choice, to understand and accept moral rules. You might to add another requirement, namely – the possibility to experience the consequences of your own choices.
The authors perform the subjective and individual dimension of a sense of responsibility for a disabled ninety-year-old person. The experiences which result from the consequences of the choice (undertaking of looking after the mother) have become the reason for the subjective definition of the consciousness of a sense of life.
In the area of psychological research, the consciousness of a sense of life is mostly measured, not only a sense as such. The fact of understanding of the notion “a sense of life” is far less explicit. Whereas the notion “a sense” indicates the subjective and individual dimension of the consciousness of a sense of life, only a sense of life can be considered in two ways. This term can be referred to life “in general”, life as such, and it can be associated with the human life or a life of the particular person. The question of a sense of life (regarding life “in general”) was mostly considered in the field of philosophy. The interest of arts concentrates on a sense of the human life and a sense of life of particular individuals .
The author of the autobiography recalls memories from the past (blocked out for many years) – as Israil Metter (a prominent Russian prosaist) writes: “In fact, when people become mature, not many of them realize how their personality was formed, what way led them to the explication of their outlook on life, and to the determination of pleasure. […] Something indefinable influenced them like “fly-paper”… In the author’s case, ten year’s time of looking after her disabled mother was the reason to start looking for a sense of life. In her opinion the reason for motivation is a tendency of a human organism to the self-realization. This tendency can be expressed in the widest spectrum of kinds of behavior and in the reaction to different needs. First, some defined basic needs are fulfilled (they come before the others). In this particular case, in addition to a sense of responsibility, the tendency to fulfill a need of love occurred. After that it was the time when the great willingness to tell about her own life (that is to say an autobiographical thought) occurred . The authors encourage to get to know the individual biographical study, such a form of thinking about their own existence which accompanies a human to the end of their life, the secret presence of this form inspires with consideration and meditation, whereas the evocation of memories can become a sense and the overriding value of life.
Besides methods of treatment of the disabled ninety-year-old person, the article includes the author’s inner dilemmas, which she struggled with at the first close meeting with her mother.
***
Aged 17, I left my family home, suffering from a lack of maternal love. For 30 years I visited my mother on the occasion of holidays or more often. At that time I got married, I gave birth to my two sons, I went through the break-up of my family and the loss of my older son (because he decided to stay with his father), I enabled my younger son to be educated. After his graduation I resumed my studies, which I finished when I was 44 years old, just then I got married for the second time.
When I was lacking in maternal love, I was at my Father’s grave – at that time nobody remembered Him. I healed the damage relevant to my divorce, the separation one son from another, the loss of the estate caused by the flood, and my husband’s sudden disease. My contact with my Father was not so close when I got to know (aged 44) that I was an illegitimate child, that piece of news had a paralyzing effect on me, after some time I came to the conclusion that it was unimportant what my patronymic name was – all the people (who I have known for years) knew who I was and I knew who my parents were. He helped me decide to look after my mother. In common with Him I was taking important for me decisions, which at the beginning seemed to be unreal, after some time they turned out to be right. Frequent visits at my Father’s, after which I was gathering strength and becoming self-confident, caused that I worked up my life philosophy. I believed that my Father watched over me, I learned to draw positive conclusions in every difficult situation.
In that (difficult for me) period of time Mr. and Mrs. Wielgosz helped me, after some time they became my second parents and I became their fourth daughter – I could always rely on them, I could, and at present, I can still seek advice from them and unbosom my grief to them.
During consecutive visits my mother (then she was 87 years old) took a pillow and said that she wanted to go with me. She was neglected, undernourished, she was not able to stand on her legs without any help. For a little I was silent and amazed when I saw my mother’s appealing glance but I hugged her and took her home.
During one and a half year’s stay at our place my mother built up her strength – she was able to move without a walking stick and walk down the stairs, we both went for a walk to the park and to church. Some day she said she wanted to come back to her own house. Now I think that my mother came to me because of a lack of love from her children and grandchildren to whom she devoted her own life. I was also suffering from a lack of parental love for years, for years I was trying to erase that painful period of time from my memory, I did not revert in thought to my childhood. The meeting with my mother made me look back on my childhood, loneliness, refusal, grief.
Now I know, when we met each other for the first time, my mother felt coldness from me, I was not able to hide that. I tried to persuade her to stay, she did not want to. I drove my mother to her house. She looked good and well-fed, though sadness was in her eyes. I still visited her. When I came, she said that she felt good, I was not able to understand – how she could feel good, once again she was neglected, nobody talked to her, actually she was alone, my siblings and my mother’s grandchildren treated her like an inconvenient thing, however she felt good. She had had better conditions at me before, I had looked after her, she had been clean, I had given her cooked meals, however at last she was back at (her) house. In a later period of time I understood her. She had come to me to avoid loneliness and helplessness, she had wanted someone to need her, at that time I was not able to satisfy her. At our place, she had had everything except love, my pain had been greater than other feelings. She was not loved at her house, but it was her house. After every visit my grief became more intense. I thought she had come to me “to take”, not to give anything, I was wrong, it was my fault – I had not let her be close to me, moreover she had been alone in the strange house for eight hours a day, she had been watching cars and first of all she had missed the village green, after work I had hardly talked to her. Then I understood her situation but it was too late. She had gone in June and in July… the flood – the loss of the estate, my husband’s disease (a pension). I had to support my family.
I still visited my mother, during consecutive visits, like previously, keeping a pillow she came to me and said she wanted to be with me. I asked myself a question, deep in thought: why me, after all she had given everything and herself to my siblings. Moreover, my sister was retired and I was working. Did she want to die at me? She was 90 years old. I knew her devotion to her house was great. I looked at my sad and neglected mother, I saw her blank expression in her eyes – I made a decision, I had to…
A month later she fell over and broke her right leg at the hip-joint, a month’s stay at hospital. She was waiting for surgery for two weeks. Two weeks later she fell ill with bronchitis, cured of it she was taken to the operating theatre and during the preparation for surgery complications of heart were found – this surgery was canceled.
In the hospital I visited her after work every day, I spent all my time with her until late. I talked to her and fed her. I observed nurses for a few days and I learned how to keep hygienic conditions by myself. She was waiting for me – the patients who shared a room with my mother said so – she livened up and looked at the door at about four o’clock p.m.
I knew she was not allowed to stay at hospital endlessly (she got tranquillizers – she seemed to be absent). I also knew that I did not have to look after her by myself, that I could have taken her to the village or to the hospice and I would have been absolved by the community, after all I had not received from her, she had given me only birth – but what about me – what about my conscience. And at the same time some thoughts haunted me if I could manage – a new job which involved commitment, the support of my family (my husband was on a pension) and my mother. It was a very tiring, long month in my life. At last I felt tired more of indecision than of everyday visits in the hospital and of my work. I understood: “If I do not fight for her life she will die”. Someone would say she has come up to a great age and in fact she could die. At one time I had thought the same. Now I know that I can think and say in that way until it does not concern me. I took my mother home.
The period of time I spent with my mother in the hospital, added another dimension to my childhood. From the innermost recesses of my memory – my childhood memories appeared from another perspective – the perspective of my love of my mother. I think my love of my mother – according to the maxim of the Cardinal Stefan Wyszyński – was tested like gold in fire at our first meeting, the second meeting confirmed the following words of the maxim – only slight love cannot be lasting in case you go through an ordeal. Great love becomes cleared and flares up. I remembered that I was always free, I made choices by myself, so I was training myself in self-independence and responsibility. I looked with love at my sleepy mother, I recalled that when I had fallen ill (then I had been 10 years old) and the doctor had diagnosed: “kidneys, it is no good treating, anyway she will die”, my mother had not grudge money, she had paid for a month’s stay at hospital, she had visited me, her decision had saved my life. I left elementary school. Because I failed the examination to get to the pedagogical high school, I decided to start studying at another high school to become a hairdresser – my mother found money and paid for my training at the hairdresser’s. Two years later I resigned that school. I decided to take a course in typing – once again my mother paid for one year’s course. After all, I continually changed my interests, that would tire any parent. The period of my childhood, hidden in the back of my mind, was released and my love of my mother was back, I was free from tiring me for years ties. “Where love reigns, there is light and an endless day” (Father Tadeusz Olszański). “Where great love is, miracles always occur” (Willa Cather). Thanks to my regained love of my mother I appraise the past and the present positively, I think that the Guardian Angel took care of me. New positive memories made the future clear. Then I realized that I met the great people on my way. I would like to thank them in the second part of this text – thanks to THOSE PEOPLE I managed to go through difficult moments and regain faith in my strength.
I prepared the room – I borrowed a hospital bed and a wheelchair, my husband installed a television set (my mother likes watching natural films). My day starts at 5.30, I make milk soup and something to drink – when the soup becomes cool, I change my mother’s clothes. Talking to my mother, I feed her and then I go to work. After work, coming in I greet my mother warmly, I say that I have just come back and I am going to come to her as soon as I change my clothes. She smiles and says: “well, just come”. I need a half an hour to have a rest. Then both my husband and I carry her onto the wheelchair and take her to the room. At that time I make dinner, my mother does not take her eyes off me (perhaps not off me – she is happy when she can see an active person). She asks me questions which I cannot sometimes understand but absolutely I must answer and look at her – that is the most important for her. I serve dinner, talking to my mother I feed her – it is not important what I say, this contact with my mother is essential, that I pay very careful attention to her, she is willing to eat. If the weather is nice, after dinner she spends the time on the balcony and watches children playing in the sandpit, then she smiles. Just then I watch TV, read or clean the house, now and then I give my mother something to drink. At about 18.00 – 19.00 we carry her to her bed, sometimes she wants to lie down earlier. At about 21.00 I wash my mother and massage her back.
The problem was getting dirty. I had to find an answer to that problem, what could make her do something especially with her left hand. At first, I gave her color-books but that activity tired her (partial paresis of the right arm). A ball of wool, which she was able to unwind and wind again, was better but not quite. I tried to talk to my mother, explain and show her dirty bedclothes and dirty hands – she promised not to get dirty but later she forgot.
Two months later, in the beginning red and then navy blue marks appeared on her skin, despite massage and compresses the septic process occurred. I decided to take her to the hospital, I tried to do that (the reform referred to the National Health Service) but there was no free place – I fought against death for two months, discharging pus and its stench could be smelled in the whole house, that made me have different moods – surrender and at the same time protest – why does she have to die in such a way? I could not live in the house where my mother would die of the advanced septic process. At last there was a free place at hospital and my mother was taken to the hospital, on that day the amputation of one leg was done (quite well).
In the evening my mother regained consciousness, with great sadness in her eyes she looked at me, hugged and said: “you are here”. Her leg healed well after that surgery. This time I visited my mother twice a day (in the morning before work and in the afternoon after work), I gave her medicines which she did not want to take from nurses. She did not want to eat either. The doctor removed drains and diagnosed that her state of health was good, a week later my mother was discharged from hospital. She only had stitches.
My mother felt better at home than at hospital. A week later a community nurse removed stitches, the injury healed without complications. Washing my mother, I pretended not to notice a lack of one leg. I am sensitive and also dynamic, when my husband and I carry my mother onto a wheelchair, I tie one leg of her trousers, my tenderness and decisiveness make my mother feel good and safe. At hospital the doctors had diagnosed advanced diabetes – they had recommended her a diet and prescribed a lot of medicines, I tried to do everything as directed. However my mother did not want to take any medicines and any recommended food. If she had not eaten any more, she would have lost appetite. I tried to imagine myself in her place and at last I came to the conclusion that I also would like to eat something what I liked – I changed menu – breakfast: milk soup sweetened enough (because my mother did not eat it with no sugar) and tea; dinner: (in the beginning I cooked soup, mashed everything, I did not sometimes manage to cook a meal so tasty for my mother, she spat it out, she did not want to eat any more. I became nervous because I put a lot of effort in order to make a meal, and in the end I threw it away) cooked pork – ham (I mince meat), I add a little ready-made meal (a half of a jar – for example lamb and vegetables), I add also a roll, adding a ready-made meal (chicken soup) I melt everything and heat, tea or juice to drink. A wide range of available ready-made products enables to make various meals for dinner. After some time my mother gets a banana or donuts. She eats with relish.
The problem of getting dirty occurred again. It was because actually my mother did nothing special with her hands. I looked for anything in the medical shops, where I did not find any help. I decided to buy a doll with clothes which could be taken off. At first she was outraged, she said that she was not a child. I put a doll on a shelf, on the right-hand side (my mother was not able to raise her right arm) so my mother could see that doll. I thought she would be interested in it and take it with her right hand. So that happened. I was observing her when she made efforts to raise and align her right arm. Before I went to work I had put a doll on her right-hand side. Every time she managed to take a doll by herself (when I was at work my husband looked after her). Now she can do everything with her right hand – she can reach for a doll and change its clothes, she talks to it and takes care of it. When we take my mother to another room, she has got her doll all the time. If she does not want to eat I say that “he” (a doll – a boy) has just eaten – then she eats with relish. My mother can be an example that even in old age it is possible to test a phenomenon of anticipation to show a positive effect. Because she can do everything with her right hand properly, she can also move from one side of her bed to another. However the process of motor involution is inevitable. I think we should try to use the willingness to be active (existing deeply in the human mind), even in a small. This activity is worth the effort and worthy care of a human. Moreover, the process of irreversible and gradually progressing reduction in the number of active cells in the most important organs (for example in the brain or muscles) goes with the old age . I cannot inhibit the reduction of the cells in the brain, I can only try to make this process late, so I remind my mother of songs which she learned to sing when she was young – she recalls words and can sing, while a doll was the reason that my mother can raise her right hand, what’s more her faith in her strength, a sense of life and satisfaction have come back. Simultaneously the problem of getting dirty has disappeared.
On the turn of January/February 2002, at night my mother started to vomit and had a high fever. I called for an ambulance, the doctor diagnosed influenza and wanted to take my mother to hospital. I did not agree because I remembered her previous stays at hospital. I signed my statement but the doctor warned me I could not hope that my old mother would recover. Because of my duties at work I was not allowed to be on a sick leave or on holiday. Faith in the desire for life of my mother and faith in my strength caused that in the end my mother recovered. Despite a high fever (40°C) my mother was carried onto the wheelchair, in order to reduce fever I gave her suppositories and put cold compresses on her hands, I changed wet underclothes, when she was in bed I put rolled towels under her back, I gave a massage twice a day (in the morning and in the evening), I often gave her something to drink. When I was at work, my husband took the place of me, I advised him on the phone. Because my mother longed to be with me, I hung my photos everywhere. Until now my photos make my mother feel as if I am present at home. I discharged my duties at work and… we both managed to cope with flu.
One year later my mother was taken ill again. I called for an ambulance and the doctor diagnosed pneumonia. Once again I did not agree to take my mother to hospital, this time the doctor was amazed and asked if I realized that she could die. I asked him to prescribe a liquid antibiotic. However, because of that diagnosis I was not able to sleep all night, I was getting ready for my mother’s death. I did everything like in the previous case (of flu), only I had to give my mother an antibiotic. Two weeks later she recovered.
I do not mention what medicines I gave. On the strength of my experience and tested methods of treatment of my mother I can say that the best cure (in this individual case) is PTL – patience, thoughtfulness and love.
PTL as a principal method of care for my mother has been a good influence on me. In the introduction of my paper I have described my inner dilemmas which caused my doubts – to care for my mother or not. I have written – she gave me only birth, now I know that she gave me even life – thanks to her I could live well, and I think that also thanks to my mother I can achieve even more. When I was a child, my mother told me how I had been born – apparently I did not show any signs of life, my birth was delivered at home, a midwife asked my mother if she wanted her baby to be alive, my mother answered that since her baby had been born let the baby live – poverty, support for another child caused those doubts, she knew that those days nobody would judge her and have no grudge against her. However, she made a good decision. I am the very picture of my mother – I think, therefore we were not both able to create a friendly relationship with each other. When my mother decided to be under my care in the most difficult for her period of time (she resigned everything – what she had achieved before), she proved that she always had faith in me – it was worth going through the way which was fated – the way full of life experience.
Exactly this faith helps me cope with difficult situations referred to my family, my work and to my mother’s disease. I have been looking after my mother for ten years. Now I have grandchildren – so my family has four generations, I have two mothers and one father – my seconds parents have to take part in the family celebrations.
I read the Bible, “Modlitwy i rozważania na każdy dzień roku” by the Pope John Paul II. His words play a great role in my life and add me wings. On the 27 July 2004 to the address of John Paul II, I sent my thanks to the people who were (and now they are still) very important for me. On the 13 August 2004 I received from the Vatican State a written confirmation of the reception of my letter and a promise of a prayer of the Holy Father for my intention. Now I regret sending this letter so late. I am sorry that I did not manage to thank the Holy Father personally. Below I quote the content of my letter which I sent to the Holy Father.
***
The Holy Father, I am fifty-three years old, I have been looking after my 97-year-old mother. When I was 17 years old, I left my family home because of a lack of maternal love, so long years of my life with no maternal love did not let me judge myself properly. For those years a few important people played a significant role in my life. I will be very grateful to them to the end of my life, thanks to them I have understood that a human not always gets what they deserve but what is the best for them.
The Holy Father, for long years I was sure that fate was unfair to me, I had a grudge against my parents, my siblings, I left my family home. I wanted to set up my own family. I got married, I wanted my family to be full of love. Unfortunately, I did not cope again. I thought that it was something wrong with me, that I could not be loved. Then my marriage was broken up, I was only with my younger son, my love of my child saved me. Thanks to him my life has made sense.
In order to show respect for the people who are very important for me I divided my life into a few periods.
Childhood, early-youth
The Parish-Priest (the Roman Catholic Parish under the invocation of the Assumption of the Holy Virgin; Bagno 31 – the turn of 50s/60s) was the first person whom my impulsive temperament did not shocked. He could listen to me, He let me tell the biblical stories my own way and led me skillfully. Thanks to Him I have learned to distinguish good from evil.
The Count, the elderly man who lived in Osola. I feel grateful to Him for an unusual imagination. When I was a child, I used to sell eggs. He let me sit down on the comfortable armchair and told me about his own life. I imagined myself with Him in those places about which He told. He lent me books.
Youth (marriage, a high school, work)
Aged 19, I got married and settled in Wrocław, I started to study at high school.
The Teacher of Polish (the IVth High School). When I was at elementary school, I used to write poems and send them to the magazine “Nowa Wieś”. Because any editor did not write back to me, my teachers also did not pay attention to it (I got low marks for Polish), I did not know my own capabilities. The high school - the Teacher of Polish, who (in my opinion) overvalued my penmanship and made me have faith in my abilities. He led me to Polish studies but I still did not have faith in my capabilities unlike He did. I applied to start extramural studies – Russian studies.
Thanks to an employment agency I started to work in the line of sport (the turn of 70s/80s). I was in luck – my superior had a high opinion of people who were hard-working. During his chairmanship I got to know the character of work in all the sections and the regional unions. I got extra pay and awards for my all additional new duties connected with my work. Thanks to my superior my efforts were appreciated in the Provincial Administration Offices and the Committee of PZPR - the former party in Poland (I never belonged and now I do not belong to any union). I learned to be responsible, reliable and organized. I interrupted my Russian studies, I passed the exam and started extramural studies at the University School of Physical Education, which I also interrupted because of family affairs. Now, just before retirement, more often and more often I mention my first boss – I think that my earnings of that period will make my future pension high.
The divorce, the loss of contact with my older son – the worst period of my life. I was with my younger son, I did not get any alimony – I did not try to get it, I thought that it was only money that I was able to earn by myself. I did not live on social security, I was ashamed of my poverty so much. I was many times at the door of the house of the Metropolitan of Wrocław and I went away, somehow I managed to find a way out of that situation. That trap led me to my Father – at the grave I tried to comfort myself, just there I made decisions which I realized with energy.
One couple (who I met when I was working in the line of sport) made up for a lack of parental love. Genevieve has been my second mother to the present day and John – my second father. She brought me something for breakfast to my work, I was invited by Them for the traditional Christmas-Eve supper. Now I still keep in touch with Them and if it is necessary I can still rely on their help.
The Metropolitan of Wrocław (my son received the sacrament of Confirmation from the Cardinal). He was in good contact with other people, so for many difficult years He was for me that Person to whom I went for help but when I was near the cathedral, I resigned because my problem was money. I came to the conclusion that there were lots of people like me, so I had to cope with that problem by myself. Now I am convinced that I was getting a helping hand in an unusual way, I obtained a sideline. I often thanked the Cardinal in my thoughts.
My younger son left elementary school and passed the examination to study at high school, I was happy then. I described my son’s education in “Droga do akademickiego kształcenia pedagogicznego”. I changed a job. I have been working at the University School of Physical Education until now.
Maturity
The University School of Physical Education – I managed a secretary’s office of the Administrative Director and a secretary’s office of the Institute of Pedagogics, Psychology and Theory of Education for the following ten years.
My superior was Professor who appreciated highly educated people with high qualifications also having the administrative position. I order to meet His requirements, I started my studies at the University of Wrocław at the Institute of Pedagogics, which I finished with a very good grade.
Working at the University School of Physical Education, I got to know the great people who had a high opinion of my organizing-administrative abilities and now at any moment I can count on them to help me out with writing a doctor’s thesis on its merits.
Professor – the Medical University of Wrocław. I got to know Her when I was working at the Pedagogics and Psychology Department. First we met only when I had to write out Her texts. I approached every task reliably. I did it accurately and in due time.
My son finished studies and set up his own family. I got married for the second time. The flood caused the loss of the estate – my husband had his own business. We were not insured. My husband was unemployed. When I was exhausted (studies, work, typing in the evenings and at nights), I told my husband and my son: “If I do not come back home, I will be somewhere in Africa and look after the elderly, at last I will not be interested in earning money to support my family”. It was fated I had a chance… I took my sick mother home. My husband fell ill with epilepsy.
When I finished my studies (thinking about my future pension), I changed a job at the University. First I worked at dean’s office, one year later I started to work at the Didactics Department (I have been working at this department until now).
The skills - developed when I was working in the line of sport and at the Pedagogics and Psychology Department - have been very useful for me on the new position. My superior was demanding so much that not everybody was able to meet His requirements. However, He appreciated my work. I feel grateful to Him for my present position and what is the most important, after the change of authorities I could count on Him to help me. I have been working at this department for nearly eight years and I still get His support when I have to solve difficult problems connected with my work.
I was in contact with Professor from the Medical University in that period of time. I shared my problems with Her. She always had time for me, I could phone Her in the evenings and talk to Her. I never asked anybody for any financial help, I needed conversation and acceptance. It was a difficult for me period of time, I felt that I had to be close to my sick mother and my husband, I knew that I could not be ill and that I had to do something. Just then Professor gave me a helping hand, she proposed me to write the text and deliver this text during a conference entitled “Science and Religion”. The conference was started by His Eminence Cardinal, it was some kind of miraculous cure for me. Because as usual I hardly had faith in my strength – moreover, I wrote this text in the form of autobiography (a rare form as far as Polish science is concerned), the book entitled “Alternatywne nurty we współczesnej pedagogice” heartened me up, I sent my text to the Author. I received the confirmation and I had not any doubts about the form of my papers. The text was of interest to everyone, I met volunteers who worked at hospices and people who let their parents stay at home for the aged. I did not realize how much texts written in the form of biography were necessary.
Managing the Didactics Department, simultaneously I replaced a secretary at the rector’s office. The Rector of that time observed me at work – quickness, reliability, responsibility – He was lavish of praise and financial awards. He was the first reviewer of my following articles. I paid by myself for participation in conferences but subsequent trips were financed by the University. The Rector (an anesthetist) advised me how to look after my mother and suggested ways of care for her skin, how to avoid any bedsore. The elections at the University were due to take place, because I was tired of duties at home and at work I got depressed (“Indywidualne sposoby walki z depresją”).
Wrong diagnoses (a stroke, multiple sclerosis), verified by the following doctors, caused anxiety tension and the result was depression. I decided to appeal for help to the Brothers of the Order of St John of God. Herbs and some infusion of herbs steeped in alcohol of neurosis were helpful for me. Now I think that the Person of Father Grande helped me. His words that irrespective of prescribed herbs if I can regain my balance it depends on me. I regained control of myself. After one year of struggle I coped with that. More important still, in that difficult period of time I did not forget about my family. There was yet another challenge ahead of me, which I had to cope with.
For those years I was in contact with my older son, who lived with my ex-husband and his new family (I described that period of time in “Między wolnością a przymusem”), why did I describe that? For myself, I wanted to cope with and accept years of marriage (erased from my memory). I sent this text to the Holy Father in order to understand me and my complicated life. When I wrote it, I came to the conclusion that I could not publish that, I could not do it for the sake of the children from my husband’s new relationship. While I was writing this text, I went through (on paper) that period. Afterwards my fear of meeting my ex-husband during family celebrations disappeared.
Because I met so many friendly people at very difficult for me moments of my life, I tried to give the others what I had got. When I was working in the line of sport I helped contestants, at the University School of Physical Education I help students. On my way I met a young woman with her child. In this case I also wanted to help. I wondered how to help her (I knew that money which she could have got from me was not a good option), I thought about what would have let me forget and create conditions for the baby if I had been in her place. Under the influence of the episode of the Polish serial entitled “Plebania” about a young woman working in the house of ill fame (which reminded me the situation of that young woman I met), the Person of the Cardinal came to my mind, I thought that work at the hospice would let the young woman (I met) come back to normal life. I took a folder with published texts (until now I do not know why I did so). This time I did not turn back, I waited patiently. Lots of people were waiting for the meeting the Cardinal, everyone had flowers and was clothed like for the ceremony… and me… well, I was the first person in the queue, I came in. I saw the nice and calm Person of His Eminence, when He asked me: “Can I help you?” I was not able to answer. I told about a desire to write a doctor’s thesis and that without His help I could not manage to do it, I was employed on the administrative position, I wanted to write about the elderly, about my mother. The Holy Father, I got “a ticket” from His Eminence. I went out and had again great faith that I could do it. I will help that young woman by myself (I write about my help in “Między wolnością a przymusem”). But I was also annoyed with myself for a lack of courage. It tired me for a very long time. The television and the radio informed about the Cardinal’s birthday. I thought it was a good occasion for greetings and telling the purpose of my visit. I wrote that, I got a reply and a blessing “for all good and noble intentions”. Thank you, the Cardinal.
Professor (the Medical University) – as I mentioned above, she was always ready to help. When my younger son’s daughter was born, a critical condition, I phoned Professor. She arrived at the hospital and helped, so the baby has still been alive, nice little Marta. In return for help she invited me to the conference. It was about motor activity of the disabled, I tried to convince Professor that I had no experience in working with young people. She asked me for the preparation of theoretical description. Thanks to her direction I wrote the text which appeared in the columns of literature referred to that conference. This text will always remind me of struggle for my daughter’s life and of Professor, an unusual woman. Thank you, Professor.
The acceptance of His Eminence, my mother’s love gave me strength, energy, faith and let my life make sense. I decided to find a professor conferring a degree for my doctor’s thesis. I asked Professor, the sociologist at the University of Wrocław, He agreed. I wrote the request to the present Rector of the University School of Physical Education for the finance to start doctoral studies – the University will finance 50% of the cost, my professor conferring a degree resigned his fee. The Holy Father, I have never dreamed about that, I have started doctoral studies at the University of Wrocław (the Pedagogics Institute). I believe in signs – I started doctoral studies on the 26 May (Mother’s Day), can it be by chance? One month later (in June) my younger son started his doctoral studies as well. I am happy.
The reform referred to the National Health Service – my husband was taken a pension. At that time I was offered a sideline. The Holy Father, how not to believe in something extraordinary, indeed I work Monday to Saturday but I have means of support for my family.
Towards the close of a period of my working activity, I have been working the same time like I started to work in the line of sport. I thank the Providence that I was given unusual strength for survival.
I thank my biological and those second parents, all the people who I met on my way of life. I thank for that I was able to go through just such a life, I get ready for the old age, if I had got everything earlier, perhaps I could not have appreciated. Moreover, what would be ahead of me? At one time I used to dream about touring, now I know that I do not have to leave in order to know the world. My “light” is my family home. I have gone a long way in order to return with pleasure to the place I escaped from. The Holy Father, I understand words: “The effort is necessary for a human to experience happiness of self-control and overcoming obstacles and difficulties” and words of Mother Theresa from Calcutta: “Lots of people die of a lack of bread, but even more people die of a lack of love”.
Giving the example of me, I can confirm the words of T. Dołęga-Mostowicz: “Happiness lasts as long as a human values it properly. And only such a thing has a value for them which they acquired with difficulty”. And the excellent maxim of the Holy Father: “Love and service let our life make sense and be wonderful because we know whom we sacrifice it”. Now I know that I got from my life what is the best for me.
The Holy Father, I wish you the best, energy to give faith and strength to people these difficult days. The Person and words of the Holy Father so often gave me strength to struggle, especially the words (I do not remember the whole quotation) but at the moments when I have to take difficult decisions I hear: “Do not be afraid…”
The purpose of my letter is to pay tribute to the people to whom I am very grateful, and to portray (in the form of published texts) an individual life of a human on whose way numerous obstacles sometimes appeared. Perhaps my life can be helpful for other people (who are in the similar situation and want to make the right choice): “When you stay at the crossroads, consider the rightness of your even choice” or/and can make them self-confident.
***
The autobiographical thought, as D. Demetrio writes, is also a state of the soul, an unusual and quite rare state (considered as specific kind of mercy). The moment, when the need to tell about life appeared, does not refer only to inward processes, it is far more complicated phenomenon. The autobiographical thought sometimes refers to ordeals, some mistakes, wasted opportunities and disappointment, which a human has to live with, therefore you can admit that to be a specific form of alliance and suspension confronted with the past. The question is – like in case of this presented autobiography - in order to form a positive attitude to the ordeals you go through because in fact a life is the only, lasting love being fated.
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