What do I have enough of? How do I know when I have enough?

My mind casts back to when my brother, Linda, and I were around my father’s bed at the hospital, along with a doctor and a hospital social worker. Discussion was a little difficult because he was rather deaf, but dad let us know he was ready to let go, and just do palliative care.

The rest of us did not have enough of dad and it was quite upsetting. But dad was certain. He was unwavering and gentle. He was completely certain, and even certain it was is right and we could have no say in it. He told us about his older brother who made the same decision a couple of years before, and how he admired his brother’s courage and wanted to do the same. This was interesting because the two brothers were about as unlike each other as brothers can be. But dad was convincing. He was at peace. The doctor had to discuss some of the ugly aspects of what would come… slow suffocation… not the easiest way to die. There was a likelihood if we extended his care that he could die by different means… it was a grizzly discussion. My older brother was arguing with dad. Dad still didn’t waver. Eventually my brother ran out of the room. It has been this long before I could talk about this.

The question today is not about my dad. It is about me — when do I know when I have enough? But this memory boiled up from below, of when my dad had enough life. It brought with it an unexpected answer for me. I have enough when I am fully in whichever moment this is. I can’t quite explain it… only that each gossamer moment has all that we need. Each moment is different. Each moment has different needs. At this moment, I need to get another cup of coffee, and look out the window at the beautiful spring sunshine coming sideways across the maple trees in the early morning. To listen to the birdsongs. And that is enough!