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Sometimes the decisions we make with our brain-injured family members are heart-wrenchingly difficult. Clearly we have a responsibility to protect them from making mistakes when they don't understand the significance of their actions. But we are often faced with a situation where our efforts to protect them may also mean that we limit their growth and freedom.
Worse, sometimes, there's little we can do to sway them in their decisions and we have to watch them choose a path that is, to us, the wrong one.
My ex-husband, Dale, who suffered a brain injury in 1983, was living independently and taking good care of himself for over 16 years. He had been helping care for his brother, also brain-injured by a stroke, and his brother's wife by spending time with them and helping to do odd jobs for them when he could. We were pleased that he had found a way to help others and we thought he was doing well.
He has become deeply religious over the last 10 years and had seemed to become more and more involved with very conservative religious groups. Last year he broke from those groups and from organized churches as well. Then one day he called me to tell me that God had told him to minister to homeless people. He intended to walk over 200 miles from his home to San Francisco and, there, live among the homeless to witness his faith. He intended to sell his home and give away his possessions—all of them.
My son and I made an emergency trip to California to see him and try to talk him out of his plan. It seemed to us, and many others, that this was a crazy idea. We feared that he could be hurt or killed—that it was just too dangerous. We hoped to help him understand that his plan would leave his own brother without the help he relied on, that Dale could minister to the homeless in his own town. We couldn't sway him. He was determined to go.
Sometimes there are no good answers
I listened to people try to change Dale's mind. They all felt that if we simply told him he couldn't go, or pointed out the obvious danger and discomfort he would change his mind. A lawyer we hired, physically disabled himself, smugly told Dale that he should pray for better guidance from God. He prayed every day, Dale replied with deep passion, and patiently out-argued the lawyer's smug pronouncements until the lawyer was furious that he couldn't change this brain-injured man's mind either. Dale had an answer for all of us. It wasn't an answer we agreed with, but he seemed thoughtful and sincere. He had a plan. He was absolutely sure he would be under God's protection. He withstood the accusations of insanity and wrong-headedness with patience and tolerance. Frankly, I was surprised.
My son and I spent sleepless nights trying to find a good answer. We worried ourselves sick about the danger, but in the end we agreed to step away and let him go. Dale isn't insane. He can take care of himself as well as many people who don't have a brain injury. He's deeply religious and has the right to practice that religion in his own way. Our eyes burned from staring at the ceiling in the dark for nights on end. We took turns being furious with him and with being afraid for him.
There was no good answer to this decision. Our best hope was the chance that it would be too difficult a journey and he would give it up. But he didn't. He walked to San Francisco. He ministered to the homeless. He worked with a church there and was apparently a great help for them. But now he's moved on and we don't know where he is.
We don't know if we made the right choice. We do know that we made a choice that gave him the freedom he felt was right for him, despite his brain injury. We've been making these decisions for over 20 years and, so far, making those choices has never been easy, despite the practice.
A friend told me the other day that she realized it was hard for us to not know where he is. But, she said, God does know. I believe Dale would agree with that assessment. But making the choice to let him go was heart-wrenchingly difficult and we may never know if it was a good decision.
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Brain Injury Family Blog 
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