On Death

A Tree at Sunrise–or is it Sunset? Marshall Mesa, Colorado, 2015 (Photo tip o’ the day: NEVER center your subject!)

Death. Maybe the only subject more taboo than sex in this country? Incest might give it a run for its money, I suppose.

We never talk about it, but death is inevitable, no matter how rich, famous, or good-looking you might be.

Sometimes I think we treat our dogs and cats better than we do our human loved ones when it comes to the end-of-life process. No, I don’t think, I know. Your aging dog or cat will tell you with its eyes and its body language when it is time. You call the vet, and the animal gets to pass on to the great Pet Mart in the sky surrounded by loved ones, caresses, and kind words. And it is all pretty painless for them.

In a very few states of this Union, you can do this for humans, but it is notably more complicated, with piles of permissions, analyses, and forms involved.

I think it is rather morbidly humorous that one of our great political parties made an issue of “death panels” a couple of elections ago. Yep, DEATH panels. Sounds like some sort of Gestapo-organized extra-judicial, pre-firing squad affair, doesn’t it?

But you know what? I have actually sat on these so called “death panels” (and so have you) and you know what they are? It is a group that generally includes the patient themselves, close family, physicians, nurses, and specialists, and maybe a hospice representative or psychologist-type. The idea of this so-called “death panel” is to figure out what the patient wants and needs, and what might be the most dignified way to play out the last few months, weeks, and days of this person’s life. When I get close, I would certainly like to convene a “death panel” so I can make clear my desires for end-of-life treatment.

I know the scenario we would all like: a long, full life, with NO hospitalization, in full command of our faculties, then–BOOM!–a massive stroke at the age of 95 whilst dreaming of pizza and ice cream (and maybe even of sex!) in our warm, soft bed…at home. That would be the perfect way out. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always work out that way. So, I would suggest we all get over the Great Death Taboo and actually talk with our children, spouses, siblings, and friends about our desires for our final hours. Then, put your desires in writing–just to make sure (and to keep the lawyers employed).

Postscript on Death: Where do we go?

Ah, yes, the perennial question since time began: What happens when we are no more, when we have ceased to be, when we have expired and gone to meet our maker…when we are stiff, bereft of life, resting in peace, pushing up the daisies, our metabolic processes are history, we’re off the twig, we’ve kicked the bucket…shuffled off the mortal coil, run down the curtain, joined the choir invisible? (Thanks, to Cleese and Chapman!)

Should we fear the transition? I am hoping not. Maybe it is like a baby in the act of birthing. The baby cries and screams, fearful of leaving the comfortable womb and of being thrust into a brave new world of strange sensations. Perhaps death is a similar transition…we leave what, to us, has been a comfortable (well…familiar, anyway) existence and we are now pushed on into some other dimension. Perhaps it isn’t really all that bad.

I know that there are some of you out there who are completely sure of what will happen after death and what it will be like. I am happy for you. I wish I had that kind of knowledge. But I have had no one whisper those secrets into my ear as yet, unfortunately.

So, not knowing exactly what it might be like, here is what I would like to have happen…my request, or my desire, if you will…(Hold on to your funeral hats, it’s slightly corny.)

I am able to go anywhere in the universe instantaneously…time and mass are rolled into one big amorphous bagel of being…I can meet anyone for pizza and ice cream, an embrace, and agreeable conversation–my family, historical figures from past, present, or future, the famous and infamous, the forgotten, even the fish, plants, insects and animals…I can fly along canyon and mountain walls, stop and touch the granite…skim the rivers, oceans, and lakes of Earth or any other world in the Universe…explore strange planets and solar systems…I can feel myself one with all animals, plants, rocks, and elements that have ever existed and ever will exist…

And all of this wrapped in a warm, shimmering, invisible blanket of love. Love–isn’t that what they say God is?

Will all this happen after death? Who knows. Only in death will we know the truth.