Lies Can Be Beneficial


I was reading a blog post from my friend Julie. (http://jmgoyder.com/)

She blogged today about how she has come to the point where she has to lie to her husband, Ants, to save him confusion. Ants suffers from Parkinson’s Disease and Dementia.

I related to that easily. I used to have to lie to my brother, Al also. I hated it, I really did. All those seven years I took care of him while he suffered the effects of M.S.A. (Multiple System Atrophy) I never lied to him.

I waited until he was nearing the last two weeks of his life and then I began the lying process. Al fought going to heaven. It isn’t as if I decided he was going to heaven, or I was punishing him in any way because he wouldn’t pass into heaven.

Actually the only one who felt punished was myself. Doctors, ministers, and deep within Al and myself; we all knew his time was counted in hours. It may be five months since Al went to see Jesus; but believe me, it is like it was yesterday.

Al was worried about leaving me and his personal items. He fought through each day. He suffered from infections, holes in his ear and shoulder, high fevers, to remain here in his bedroom and with me by his side.

I began to tell him he could take everything he wanted to heaven with him. He had me get a piece of paper and a pen and he instructed me through mumbling of words what he wanted to leave me after he passed.

I explained that he was being very kind, but if he chose to change his mind, he could. Although Al could not write any longer, he insisted he sign his name to that piece of paper. With my help of placing the pen in his hand, and guiding gently, he made some marks on that paper. I knew after we completed his wishes, he did feel better. I still have that special signature yet today.

There came a point where the ministers had tried to encourage Al about how wonderful heaven was, but Al wouldn’t budge. One day the two of them told me to say anything to him that he may understand, so that he could be healed.

My heart stung, and the words tasted bitter on my tongue as I explained what finally Al understood and he felt comfortable enough to leave the sick body and go to heaven. If you remember or if you have never read my blogs, my brother was mentally challenged. I told Al, ” it will be like when we took your car to the shop to get its oil changed. You are going to do that too. You will leave, get a new body and then come back.”

I cried during those few words. It killed me knowing I was lying, but the reward was Al understood. I can remember clear as day his words to my statement. Is that all? That sounds pretty easy.

Within 24 hours, he passed. Oh how I miss him yet today. I realize two things. I.  I am not a good liar. My escape from being a liar is usually not to comment when placed in a position I may have to say something untrue. 2. Sometimes lies are beneficial. I know that in my brother’s case, it was suffering versus healing.Al and Rhino, Nov 1