Transitions

Death is a difficult subject in our society. We have sanitized it so much that we lose sight of the fact that both birth and death are a natural part of living. It has become something doctors and “others” step in and take over for so many people.

I had the opportunity to care for someone who was dying and even after she died, we washed her body and dressed her and sat with her and her family and our friends for a while before the undertakers came to take her away. Somehow that death felt like the transition it was. It was peaceful and sweet. Sad, but comprehensible.

My mother’s death was terrible. She was whisked away on an airplane to another city. I arrived and was only allowed to see her for five minutes twice during the night before she went into surgery. Then they came and said she was dead. I never saw her again until she was embalmed and so different that I barely recognized her. It was very hard to understand that the woman who gave me birth and was later one of my best friends, was gone at the age of 58. It was now you see her. Now you don’t.

I know I don’t want to suffer and linger in pain my last days. No extraordinary means should be used, except pain medicine. I’d like to die as naturally as possible for everyone’s sake.

Still I know that if someone I loved was dying, it would be very hard for me not to want them to try everything they could to stay alive. It is one thing to die, but to let go is something that requires an extraordinary amount of love.