A Good Death

It was a good death. 

My aunt, a vibrant 84 year old, turned slightly the wrong way while getting into bed at the Independent Living Facility, and fell. She broke her hip. It was tragic but unfortunately very common.

Her attitude was incredible as she fought through physical therapy for almost 3 months. The person I was most worried about was my uncle who after over 60 years of marriage never left her side. This included sleeping upright in a chair most of the time. 

Their two children, now fifty-something with kids of their own, although living hours away were also there most of the time. Both knew the statistics on recovery from a broken hip at that age. Encouragement felt like the best medicine. However, my aunt was the one encouraging us cracking jokes and assuring everyone that she was not going down without a fight.

We were beginning to feel confident that she was, in fact, getting close to coming home, until we got some very bad news. Her immune system had finally become so compromised that the cancer she had escaped during the last 30 years was back. It was everywhere. 

When my aunt got the news, she knew it was her time. I remember when my father decided it was time. He died 3 days later, as did my aunt.Neither she nor my father knew the meaning of giving up. Both of their lives had been rich, full of challenges and accomplishments. They were courageous by any standard. However, they both knew when it was time.

It’s amazing that one can decide when it’s time to die. I have seen it twice now with two very special people who led exemplary lives, who loved their family and who were loved in return. It’s hard to say good bye. But it’s even harder to watch the suffering of those whose quality of life has declined beyond any hope of recovery.

I say it was a good death because she fought hard with an amazing attitude. She fought not to just stay alive, but to stay alive for as long as she felt she was contributing and engaged. It was as if, once she could no longer participate at a level that was acceptable to her, she decided that she should let go. She never complained. In fact, she was an inspiration to the end. 

I wanted to talk about death today because of how we avoid this subject so desperately. We rarely even plan for it in advance. We may actually think that if we don’t talk about it, it may not happen. With 10,000 people turning 65 every day, this taboo subject needs to become an accepted conversation and seen as a natural part of life. It is healing to talk about death. In fact, thinking about it can have an amazing impact on those left behind. It forces us to concentrate on what’s important. It makes us reflect on what we are doing in our own lives. It reminds us that life is finite. 

I hope we can all embrace our time like these two precious souls when it comes. But in the meantime, I hope we can honor the loved ones who have passed on by seizing each day and making it count.