I’ve always had a sneaking suspicion that this one only works for Tibetans

It’s interesting that thanks to the self help industry we have so many books at our disposal that tell us how to live, but scant few on how to die. Sure, there’s a plethora of paperbacks devoted to grieving, loss, and dying, but that’s still about how to live, albeit while watching someone else die. A quick Google search of the phrase “how to die” turns up the Deathclock and a bunch of tips on suicide, but even suicide is a conscious act of the living, not a process of dying. You also find things like the book How to Die in the Outdoors: 100 Interesting Ways, and New Scientists’ How Does it Feel to Die? Again, not very useful if you just want to die well. There is of course The Tibetan Book of the Dead, but I’ve always had a hunch it only works for Tibetans. And there’s always religion in general, which is a proven and reliable way to prepare you for the life after this one. Oh. There we go again. A guide for living. So how does one go about dying? This topic has been very much on my heart and head for a while now, ever since about a two months ago, when my mom entered what may very well be her last days. It started with a negligent act on the part of the health care facility she was in, which is another topic altogether. I will very likely become a health care activist as result of the experience. But what this whole experience has also brought to my attention is the odd fact that neither of my parents seemed to have had an understanding of how to die well. I’ve experienced death firsthand many more times than most people who aren’t in either the military or a medical profession. Quite a lot, and at an early age. I’m thankful for that; it’s given me a strong set of beliefs that helps me deal with a lot of other things in life, and helps me help others when they experience the loss of a loved one or experience trauma. When I think about my own death though, I hope that I’m able to face this “final event” with dignity, and that I can avoid a medically prolonged life of drugged suffering. And I hope those around me who are meant to be of support as I die “get it”. My poor mother, a devout Catholic, was visited by one of the priests

from her parrish during the holiday season, which was when it became apparent that she might have quite a struggle ahead. She told him that she thought maybe she just wanted to die. She told me that he said something to the effect of “You can’t do that now Dorothy, your family needs you to stay with them, especially at this special time of the year“. I said “Well THAT sounds like a bunch of malarkey, what do YOU think?” She chuckled and agreed. But all along the rather difficult road of watching her bounce back and fade away repeatedly (she’s a feisty old gal), I’ve been troubled because I know she really IS only hanging on for others; she’s as much as told me so. And that saddens and troubles me more than losing her ever could; this should be HER time. And it should be simple. She’s had 82 years to enjoy life with her insightful, genuinely loving nature, and her seemingly indestructable humor. She should be allowed to move on now with grace if she wants or needs to. And she should have some idea of how to do so. I ran across a couple of interesting articles on this topic as I did some superficial research while I wrote this. One was How to die — a physician’s last lesson, in which a doctor explains how their father, also a doctor, went about dying with relative peace. It was definitely worthy of note that with two doctors involved in the decision-making process, medical treatment was not involved. I also ran across a rather lengthy but interesting piece with New York Times health reporter and author Jane Brody called How to Die Well in America. One simple thing that jumped out at me amongst a lot of other insights was when she pointed out that we “…shield our children from death. In the old days, people died at home. That was the most common place people died, and everybody was around for all ages. Nobody was spared…” I really hope that when my time comes, dying is at least as easy to do as living has been, which has been pretty dealable for the most part.