I admittedly fear death, not my own, but the death of people that I love. I have no doubt that this obsession comes from the unexpected death of my father during my childhood. I tend to dwell on thoughts of losing someone, especially as I myself grow older. No matter the circumstances it is always tough to say goodbye to someone who has been part of our own lives, but now and again we hear of an instance when death was a beautiful and spiritual experience.
Everyone of us knows that death is inevitable. Nobody gets out of this world alive. We are reminded again and again that each of us have a limited lifespan, some more so than others. We watch a loved one suffering at the end of life and our grief is punctuated in knowing how difficult the last moments were for them. Sometimes individuals take charge of the situation much like a lovely woman who quite recently died.
She was a lively individual who was sassy and joyful. She was the kind of person who made everyone in a room feel welcomed and loved. Somehow this lady made an indelible impression on me even though I had only been around her a few times. Her charisma and energy drew me to her and when we talked it felt as though we had been the best of friends for years. Time and distance kept us apart but I often thought about her with great pleasure. We exchanged Christmas cards and I heard stories about her from those who had first introduced me to her.
This incredible woman was as lively as can be while reaching her mid nineties. Without warning she found herself in need of gallbladder surgery. The surgery was a success but the anesthetic left its mark on her kidneys. She could have undertaken months and even years of medical treatments but instead she chose to let nature take its course. She had been blessed in life and saw no need to extend it any more than necessary. As she grew nearer to death she was able to visit with all of her loved ones and she remained as wonderfully delightful as ever. They gathered around her and witnessed the peacefulness of her heart and her faith that God had been with her all along her journey. There was no suffering, only the happy expectation of joining her husband and her daughter in heaven.
I think that this is the way most of us would like to spend our final days. We don’t always get that kind of choice but when we do it is a kind of blessing. Many among us choose to accept the inevitable on our own terms rather than attempting to elongate our lives with endless treatments and visits to doctors who are telling us that all it will buy is weeks or months.
My mother chose to forego treatments that would have extended her life only a matter of weeks. She too passed from the world surrounded by family and in a state of elation. There was literally a glow about her when she smiled. She had made peace with her destiny and gave each of us the gift of knowing that she was happy in those final moments.
I read a rather controversial editorial in a past issue of The Atlantic after hearing about it from my primary care physician. It was written by Ezekiel Emanuel, a doctor and the brother of Rahm Emanuel. In the essay he said that once he reached a certain age he would no longer take extreme measures to extend his life. As a physician he had noted that those who do so tend to suffer more in a quest to keep living than those who face the inevitable truth that their bodies are slowly shutting down. He did not suggest that younger people avoid such treatments or even older folks whose diagnoses of better health are fairly certain. He was talking about last ditch efforts with very limited promises.
I have a friend who agrees with Dr. Emanuel. She is in her late seventies and is refusing all but the most basic medical services. A cousin of mine did the same after his diagnosis of heart failure had exhausted every possible surgery and treatment that might have given him years rather than weeks or months. Not long ago an uncle turned down surgery for the same reasons. These people chose to die naturally rather than attached to tubes and wires.
I’m not sure how I will feel if and when such a day comes. For now I have few health issues other than arthritis and osteoporosis. I take medication for heartburn but my actual heart is working like a champ. I may live a very long time with or without extra efforts like my grandfather did. It’s not something that I worry about unless it involves someone I love. Then I find myself wanting to try anything to keep them alive just a bit longer. I suppose that maybe I should just let them decide how they want it to be. Instead of worry about their deaths I should spend more time enjoying their lives. None of us know when that last breath will come. Being afraid of it is not the answer, but getting the most out of each breath we take is.
All It Takes Is A Little Love 