My father, then in his late eighties, had just recovered from a bout of the illness that was finally to cause his death, and was very shaky on his feet. Afraid that he would miss his footing on the step outside our door, I took his arm to guide him. It was not the first time that I had held his arm, nor had he ever reacted adversely to this gesture of affection and concern. But this time he shook me off angrily. “I can manage on my own,” he said irritably.

Trivial though this episode was, I remember it because of the underlying reason for his uncharacteristic reaction. And this was the first time he felt that his independence was being threatened.

One of our worst fears is that one day we will be incapacitated to the extent of having to be dependent on others for our needs. I know that I am terrified by the thought. For those unfortunate ones who can see the fear becoming a reality, there is a desperate need to deny what is happening by making a last-ditch effort to assert their independence. In this situation, they resent help since it merely underlines their dependence on others. Yet, even when you understand the rationale behind their behaviour, it needs a tremendous act of will for those close to them to resist the impulse to help.

This is what happened to a friend of mine who, though relatively young, was struck down with a debilitating and progressive disease. When the diagnosis of his illness was first made, and it was clear that the disease was degenerative, his wife realised that she would need support to see them through ? and who could better provide this than his parents? A working woman, she requested a transfer on compassionate grounds and moved in with his family. She said later that it was a bad decision. Gradually, the illness left the young man with an unimpaired mind but a severely disabled body. His parents, unable to bear the sight of their son struggling to perform the simplest of tasks, such as helping himself to a glass of water, or doing up the buttons on his shirt, would instantly rush to his aid. This was exactly what they should not have done, explained his wife, though she admits that she too had to grit her teeth to resist the temptation to help. Desperate to assert his independence, the young man deeply resented any implication that he was not able to manage on his own.

Yet one can understand only too well how difficult it must have been for his parents not to try and help. For most concerned people faced with this sort of situation, not helping the infirm appears to be nothing short of heartless cruelty. The tragedy of life is that sometimes, however hard it may seem, one has to be cruel to be kind.