Touching the Void is the true story-movie about two mountain climbers who climb a 22,000 peak in the Andes. Joe Simpson and Simon Yates were on their way back down the mountain when Simpson fell and broke his leg. Yates tied a long rope to each of them and began to lower Simpson down the mountain. After lowering his partner over a sheer face, however, the rope jammed. Yates could feel Simpson’s weight dragging him off the cliff. There was no way to communicate. After an hour, Yates knew that to save his own life he would have to cut the rope.
It took courage, but he sent his friend plunging to what he thought would be Simpson’s certain death. Yates got himself off the mountain (a feat in itself) and back at base camp, he nursed emotional and physical wounds.
In the meantime, Simpson did not die, but had fallen into a crevasse. He reeled in the rope and discovered it had been cut. Then, starving and with a broken leg, he managed to crawl out of the crevasse and through ice fields to make his way back to the base camp. He and Yates were reunited.
Yates and Simpson returned to civilization. Yates became known as the man who “cut the rope.” Simpson wrote a book and was glorified. But if Yates hadn’t cut the rope neither of them would have survived. Cutting the rope saved them both. And even if Simpson had died, Yates would have lived.
Should Yates have cut the rope? Wasn’t his life of value–as much value as Simpson’s life?
How about a caretaker with a disabled husband at home? Surely she’s not going to abandon him, but at what point does she save her own life when she discovers she has fibromyalgia and heart problems. What about the man who has a disabling disease. Should he expect his 120-pound wife to be his caretaker, helping him in ways that puts her at risk of hurting herself? What about the man with a wife with Alzheimer’s that becomes a threat to her safety–and to his?
A friend’s husband has a medical condition that has dramatically changed their life and their marriage. She sees his vulnerability, but he doesn’t see hers, because he is the one who is ill. Although she isn’t doing physical care, his illness has created chaos in her emotions. She’s not even 50. When does the caregiver cry uncle? When they, too, are ill and dying, which happens to too many?
When do we cut the rope?
Thankfully I’m in none of these situations. There are no easy decisions in any of the above and myriad other scenarios. But experiencing the caregiving adventure has made me acutely aware of the burdens people are carrying with little support and a mountain of expectation that they will continue to carry the load. I am in a similar situation in that the expectations lay in my lap to care for mom. And that has been a tiresome burden at times. But after all these years (I’m a slow learner) I’m learning to cut the rope by setting clear boundaries and taking time for myself without guilt or excuse or apology.
It’s not about abandonment of our loved ones. I continue to care for mom, perhaps in a more loving and free way. What’s at stake is balance., not blind, selfless sacrifice. There is nothing selfless about that kind of sacrifice. It’s called martyrdom. It’s called being trapped. Of course, some times, there’s no way out. You do what is in front of you to do.
A family member once told me about friend who was dying of cancer. In the context of a complaint I made about mom, the family member said, “Well, M was dying of cancer and was changing his elderly father’s diapers.” My first response was anger because M clearly had choices. Instead of hiring caregivers for both he and his father (who had millions), he sacrificed on the altar of something I don’t even understand. It’s an extreme example. But all around me I see people sacrificing on that same altar.
Do not misunderstand. I know that we sacrifice every day for those we love. This is not the sacrifice of which I speak. This is the sacrifice that devalues one life for the sake of another.
I’m not sure what touching the void really means in the context of this movie, other than Simpson and Yates faced the ultimate void. But the message speaks loud and clear.
Life after ... Taking Care of Mom 