I recently came across a book titled, The Dignity of Dependence by Leah Libresco Sargeant. The book itself is worth a conversation, but the title sparked a thousand flames in my mind.
Have we lost the dignity of dependence in care? Have we become so transactional, and cling so intently onto our independence and self-sufficiency that we have forgotten that we need others no matter our state in life? To say we need others is one thing, to actually allow someone to help us is another. To admit that we are dependent on someone, well, throw that conversation into a vault, lock it shut, and throw away the key.
We do need others. And, there is no shame in dependence. It is a both/and situation. You can be self-sufficient and still dependent. We are after all human. Not a single person alive can do it all, has it all, or walks each day without a flaw or struggle. I believe that we have lost the dignity of dependence in part because we have pushed aside the dignity of suffering.
To say someone living with dementia is suffering has become a big no-no. You say that and you suddenly have voices from every angle yelling at you saying, “how dare you say that!” But, isn’t that the reality? Someone living with dementia is suffering? You are suffering to, to some degree. It is how we think about suffering, about life, about living, that reminds us that suffering is not bad, and that suffering does not mean that goodness, beauty, and joy are void in one’s life. Nor does it mean that suffering has become our entire identity.
How do we suffer well?
Well, in addition to one’s faith, we suffer well when we have community and allow ourselves to be dependent on others. We suffer well when we accept that we can’t do something and need the care of another. We suffer well, when we die to self and embrace the love of another. We suffer well when we remember the dignity of dependence.
To be dependent is not a mark that we have lost the war, or even the battle. To be dependent means we have an invitation into friendship, into community, into relationship with another. Who doesn’t find great fulfillment in helping someone else? We can’t allow others to feel that sense of purpose unless we, in our areas of need, become dependent on them for the areas in which they can give of themselves to us.
From the other perspective, we cannot see ourselves as superior when we are the one someone is dependent on. I see too often in professional care teams a sense of superiority and pride in the fact that they can do something that their client, resident, patient, cannot do. I see too many people get an ego trip because they have someone who is dependent on them. This cannot happen. Our elder care and medical worlds need to find humility again.
It is not easy to ask for help, to accept help, to admit we need help. We can feel we have our tail between our legs when we are dependent on another for something. And, thus allowing our very being and stature in a room to change when it need not do so. It is easy to inflate ourselves when we are asked for help, or can provide something someone else’s wellbeing depends on. How can we best remember and enact the dignity of dependence? The dignity of suffering? The dignity of human life.