Let's Talk About the "D" Word

“Death is not the opposite of life, it is a part of life. A part we’ve not yet explored and thus do not understand and it is only natural to fear what we do not understand. But with the right attitude, we can make life beautiful. With this same attitude, can death not be the same?” ~Unknown

Several sorrowful and inexplicable developments have occupied my mind this week. The seeming randomness and brevity of the human condition have pulled me up short and begged me to examine death. After a routine pediatrician visit, a classmate of my four-year-old granddaughter was diagnosed with a rare bone cancer; a sweet young mother in my circle discovered, after experiencing a series of seizures, that she has three inoperable brain tumors; and my former husband's baby sister entered hospice after a courageous years-long battle with esophageal cancer. And sitting here at my local coffee shop penning this column this morning, I am watching a middle-aged woman lean heavily on the arm of a gentleman as they make their way haltingly to the counter, surely in the advanced stages of some neurological disorder.

My heart is heavy, dear readers. 

But why? We’ll all transition. In grieving these tragedies, do I set myself somehow above and apart from the inevitability of my own demise, thinking, “Whew, glad it’s not me or my kids?”

Not yet.

At 68 years old, I have far less time in front of me than behind me. Have I made peace, come to terms with my mortality? I have a belief; I’m not sure I’d call it faith, but I have a view of the afterlife that sustains me. I’ve taken care of the business of drawing up a final will and testament, establishing health directives, and downsizing my home and belongings.

Still, all these maneuvers are cerebral, they’ve been undertaken at arm’s length, without the full embodiment, the complete readiness and acceptance of death. Let’s address the elephant in the room; let’s stop whispering about others’ dying and death and have full-bodied conversations about our own misgivings while we can. How I wish I’d had end-of-life discussions with my mom before she left us suddenly in 2016.

What would it take to view death through a lens of curiosity, to see it as a great adventure, the final frontier? When my time comes, I hope I can show up aware and prepared, with eyes wide open in wonder.

I’ve asked my Reiki master and dear friend, Caroline, to be part of the care team should I be lucky (?) enough to spend my final days on hospice. What’s something you can do today to reduce the discomfort, the fear, around death? Perhaps start here: http://bit.ly/3IytWQm

Here’s how some do it in Australia: http://bit.ly/3k8uG5g