Mortality

Friends,

This coming Monday I will commemorate eighty three years since my birth. Eighty three isn’t a particularly impressive or memorable number, but is one number above eighty two, and I am grateful for every year of my octogenarian decade. And each milestone is an opportunity to reflect on my life. This year I have been especially focused on what it means to be mortal, the undeniable certainty of my death, and what my mortality means in terms of the fullness of my life.

To guide my thoughts, this summer I reread Dr. Atul Gawande’s thoughtfully provocative book Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End. For me his book was a reality check as I face my own death,  and it helped me reflect on how I need to prepare for my death and how I want to live before I die. Obviously dealing with the question of death in general, and mine in particular, is a topic far more complex than I can cover in this evening’s blog, but my hope is whatever the age of my readers, being thoughtful about our mortality is actually a way to enhance the richness of one’s life now, and I will try to share some of what I have been thinking that may also encourage you to do the same. And perhaps also encourage you to read Gawande’s book.

There are two major themes in my thoughts. The first one is the importance of honestly reckoning with the certainty of my death. Like those of us who love life and want to continue living forever, I would prefer to ignore or deny that I will die - or at least not soon, even when I’m eighty three! And even when I loose consciousness and my body no longer functions I am tempted to soften that expectation of loss by assuming I will still go on living in peoples’ memory and in my “legacy." And this may be true. But the reality is my body will not live forever. So an important part of my life now, ironically, will be to learn how I die gracefully as a seal on the fullness of my life. 

As Gawande notes I realize the dying process will likely include a complex arrangement of prolonged or painful medical interventions and personal and social emotional separations. And I would certainly prefer to avoid all of this as much as possible. But again the reality check: It is likely a certain amount of passing will be some of the most difficult times of my life although I also often read the consolation that "a person died peacefully surrounded by family.” Blessedly, I also hope this will be how I ultimately die. As I reconcile that I am going to die, and as much as I may wish for a relatively easy death, death can also be difficult and harsh. I will need to trust that I will have a core of deeply kind and caring people to accompany and support me during this time.

 And in the process of dying there will likely of periods of testing and waiting and more testing and waiting, with a  lot of decisions to make. I will be in close consultation with medical professionals and family, but ultimately I alone will be faced personally with a variety of options and choices that will affect my ongoing well-being and longevity as well as the lives of my family and friends if I am capable of doing so. 

Which brings me to another crucial reality. I need to try to figure out who will take care of me if I am not able to take care of myself. I can only hope my demise will not involve becoming a burden for Cathy if she were to outlive me and also have the capacity to offer care. Depending on how long and competently I will live, it is likely at some point I will need professional support, so I have gone through the options of the possibility and cost of living at home with a personal caregiver or going to a Continuing Care Retirement Community (CCRC). Because I don’t know if and when I will need continuing care, and if I can pass a physical and if a CCRC plan is financially feasible, I have begun the process of checking this out.

And then there are the practical arrangements I can't cover in detail here but are essential considerations as we face our mortality. I need to attended to my will and to assure my financial records are in good order, for example. (Mine thankfully are in order thanks to Cathy’s lead.) I have made post death arrangements for a memorial service and an obituary (yes, I wrote my own!). Looking ahead to planning for after I die is a responsible  exercise for my successors and a help in overcoming my denial of my death.

So now some  more positive thoughts. First and foremost,  honestly facing my mortality reminds me of how precious my final days and years are, and I plan to enjoy every minute of it as much as possible. I find that awareness a grace and a gift.

Secondly I find it somehow strangely consoling that I will die and not have to endure difficult, endless, debilitating years of simply spending a great deal of time and money primarily to just keep me alive

And then  I am excited about the possibility of a new life after death:  a reincarnation, some form of “resurrection,” or any other afterlife scenario I can only dare to imagine?     

In any case I have concluded that my mortality and my inevitable death is, in and of itself,  an integral part of my life, and I must accept and celebrate it just as I also have celebrated my life.  Maybe it is only the audio fading out from a beautiful song. Maybe it’s a portal to another life. Maybe it’s simply a good-bye waves to and from a dear friend called Life. Or maybe all of these and more because death is one of the great mysteries of life, and a universal part of all life itself. Maybe the inevitable death that accompanied life is God’s way of keeping the wonders of life in good order. 

Blessings on your life and death journey,

Peace,

Tom