My extended family has experienced two deaths recently. Two elderly family members passed away 12 days apart. Even though they were both expected and brought an end to physical suffering, it hits hard that they both came so close together. We are grieving.
In addition, I’ve been reading poets like Mary Oliver and Ross Gay, both of whom capture true joy and delight in simple things like a walk in the woods or picking fruit from a mulberry tree. At the same time, they both write explicitly about death: their own death and the deaths of loved ones. Having an active awareness of death and the fleeting nature of our earthly lives enables both of them to embrace the joy of this life more urgently and fervently.
All of this has me think a lot more about my own death. When my Grandmother approached her aging years, she often said that she was “getting friendlier with death.”
So following my grandmother’s lead, for the rest of January as everyone else is worshiping at the altar of health and wellness, I will be getting friendlier with death and sharing my musings with you. Click here to start at Part 1 or Part 2.
If contemplating death makes you feel like running screaming toward the nearest vast wasteland, you are in good company. And this topic may hit closer to home with you depending on where you are right now. I invite you to take a deep breath, be gentle with yourself, and take on as much as you can right now.
Part 3: Affairs in order
When I talk to people who are close to death, I ask them if they’re ready to die. Often they welcome the conversation, even while their caregivers or loved ones are afraid to talk openly about their death. Those who are dying want to unburden themselves with whatever they’re carrying, be it their regrets or their worries for those left behind.
A few weeks before her death, I sat with my loved one and talked to her about dying. I told her we were going to be alright after she died; then I held her daughter’s hand to show her that we were together. She said she was ready.
Some people only allow themselves to let go of this life when they feel peace. My journey becoming friendlier with death is looking straight on at what would bring me peace in those final conversations.
As I mentioned in Part 2 , my primary concerns are for my children. While thinking about my children’s emotional life after my death is hard enough, thinking about the logistics and details is paralyzing. I confess that I don’t have a complete picture of the financial ramifications of my death. It’s already hard enough to think about and plan for my death. But adding paperwork and legalese to the mix makes me want to hide under a blanket.
I would have so much more peace if I knew that everything was taken care of. If your first reaction at reading about wills and estate planning is, “Yeah, I really need to do that” you’re not alone. Here’s a list of what to do to prepare for your death as well as what to do when someone dies.
Why is this so hard to figure out? And why does it cost so much to get the legal matters in place to make sure my loved ones are provided for? It’s so much easier just to ignore the conversation and pretend I’ll never die. Yet, I am on a journey intentionally becoming friendlier with death.
Since we don’t own a home and our main asset is our 2015 station wagon, we used to think it wasn’t really important to have a lot of documents in place. And honestly, I don’t even know where to start in terms of getting advice or all the documents done right.
Here I find myself at the intersection of grief, fear of death, and paperwork - no wonder so many cases end up in probate.
It would give me so much peace of mind to know that my affairs were in order and that my family would be left with as little a headache as possible. I want my children to be provided for, of course, but also other family members and the organizations and causes that mean a lot to me. Assuming there are assets to be allocated by the time I die. (Can I mention how grateful I am to free of student debt?!)
J.S. Park is a hospital chaplain who prays with dying people nearly every day. He reflects openly about his experiences, what death is like, and what people share on their death bed.
“Most of the regrets, [Park] says, come down to: ‘I only did what everyone else wanted, not what I wanted.’ … ‘Many of us near the end realize we were not able to fully be ourselves in life – we had to hide to survive,’ he says. ‘It was not always our fault. Sometimes our resources, the systems and culture around us did not allow us to. My hope is always to fully see and hear this patient, who is now finally free.’ ”
As someone is dying, regrets can be held and heard, and this is powerful.
Certainly, the time to prevent regret is now by living an intentional life that aligns with everything we want it to be. But, I don’t think it’s possible to live a life entirely free from regret.
In the Christian tradition, we have a practice of confession and forgiveness. This is one way we practice letting go of regrets on an ongoing, regular basis. It’s not just about living life in the most intentional way every moment; no one does that. We are all disappointd in ourselves at one time or another. But we can also practice examining our lives to stay current with regrets and mistakes. Then make a change.
“Yeah, I really should get on that.”
Consider this my accountability to taking care of my affairs, staying current with my mistakes, and living life with my own death in mind.
~What I’m reading~
Outlive: The Science and Art of Longevity by Peter Attia
Getting Things Done: The Art of Stress-Free Productivity by David Allen
Thank you so much, Frances (Grace). Especially for the helpful links. In fact, we just had the difficult conversation with our four year old when I ended up in the ER last Sunday. All is good again but it was quite a scare and unexpected confrontation with my own mortality. So I try to see it now as invitation to start talking about it as a family, like what would be when, and also to think about the paper work. And frankly, it made me cuddle some more with my family than usual and to be more present than usual. I think therefore the monastics recommend to keep our mortality in-front of our eyes daily.