cause and effect

Talking about cause and effect makes me think of Avot.  Not the biblical patriarchs, but my father-in-law and my Dad.  My father-in-law was a very good person – loyal, caring husband and devoted father, cheerful, energetic, funny, neat, honest, kind and helpful.  My extended family always has him in mind in our perpetual debates on ‘is not it enough to just be a good, decent person’.  He had one weakness – taste for forbidden meat.  He used to make it really nice, with spices and sauces.  For many years this was a staple food in the household, and also a source of conflict, as I ungratefully crunched on salads.  The family patriarch did not consider it a weakness, but was quite vocal and proud of his gastronomical preferences.  Until at the age of 71 in fit shape and vigor he started to complain of indigestion.  Six months later he was gone, burned away by stomach cancer.

Fast forward ten years later, two days ago as of this writing, my 81-year-old father was diagnosed with skin cancer, facial lesions.  All his life my father was obsessed with his looks, matching his clothes to perfection, narcissistic to extreme, flirty and sociable with whoever he considered aesthetically pleasing, sarcastically berating those less endowed with glamour, which included my mother. There were times when his considerable talent and charms would bring hundreds of people to hear him speak.  He drew his energy from other’s admiration, but when crowds dissolved he was left with a void.

My dad and my father-in-law were completely opposite people, but one trait was in common – they were unapologetic, one in his vanity, the other in his physical cravings, bearing their flaws like a banner. 

I know we are not supposed to see illness as in direct correlation to guilt, but it’s hard not to see some logic. My Buddhist friend Ellen believes that cancer is a form of protest of the body against what feels wrong at the gut level, while consciously man is in loud denial of guilt.  The louder he screams in his pride, the deeper the guilt is buried to the level of the offended tissue cells. Which I think is another way of saying that a body is connected to the divine soul, circumventing the scheming mind.  I also think that while vanity and cravings are all parts of the human nature, the one who is consciously ashamed remains healthier that the proud denier. And now I can only pray that merciful G-d, in whose hands we are mere pawns, will spare the agony and let my father leave this world in peace.