Intrigued by Death

My three sons are now grown and out of the house. They’ve become good citizens, although my oldest lives in Scotland. Sigh. That’s way too far for me. But that’s his (and his wife’s) decision. It’s their life. As a mom, I’ve learned to allow for differences; to not get in the way too much. Still, I want them to talk to me about their hopes and dreams.

Often, my three sons have teased me about my interest in all things related to death/dying. They’ve gotten used to me telling them about the latest book I’m reading or Netflix series. (Have you seen, Surviving Death? The first episode is riveting.)

I’ve done my Advanced Directives and keep gently nudging my husband to do his. Last year, I bought a burial plot; a space big enough for three biodegradable urns (me, Anna-our daughter, and Dave). It’s near Hickory Hill Park, a lovely, wooded area where we used to take walks as a family.

Now that I’m retired, I’m aware that my death is closer. I’ve never feared dying because I’ve seen it done well and because I believe there is something next; “another dimension” as one 4-year-old patient once told me. I’ve heard from those who were dying that they’d seen a loved one who was on the other side and that they felt so loved.

I do wonder how it will happen. My biggest hope is that my spouse, boys, and Anna will be with me. My husband thinks he’s going first but you never know. When it’s my time, I hope that I’m proud of the life I’ve lived and that I go with dignity. That would be enough for me.