Fast or slow, as humans most of us resist the fact that we are going to die, that our loved ones are going to die, that humans die. All of us. Although a slow death is sometimes not dramatic and painful, as you wrote, often it is painful to *witness* and despite the comfort of holding a vigil at a bedside, being present and involved and caring, my experience is that the declaration/appearance of the instance of death is almost always a surprise and a new shock to the system. Despite all the preparations, and sitting, and watching. Sudden death, the helplessness of that, for which there is no real preparation, comes built-in with the shock of death to the living. The only antidote I know for finding some sort of peace with both a fast death or a slow lingering death is to openly, as best as one can considering how difficult some human relationships can be, love and love and love all the time and with the greatest generosity possible.
After observing the deaths of people across a few generations, I’d choose a fast death. Get your plans and paper work in order, tell the people you love how you feel, pass on anything important while you can share the reason it matters to you. My husband and I tell each other periodically, “Don’t save me.”
Sari, Death is a topic that scare off most people. On the other hand, I write about it alot after supporting my husband through 12 years of Alzheiemr's, grieving his death (now going on ten years old), and talking about aging as an 80 year old. Through my writings, I have become known to many as "the old age gay guru". You can imagine that being gay, which worships the youth culture, doesn't allow for close looks at getting older or long goodbyes for that matter. I am not afraid to walk right into it with my experiences, lessons, and insights. Thanks for OLDSTER! Fondly, Michael
A death doula I know wrote this in her own advance medical directive: “If I can’t go to a baseball game, follow it, enjoy it and, the next day, remember it, I don’t want to survive.”
She's very serious about that. But to answer your question: I'd like to go fast, but I'd hate leaving things unsaid. (I plan to write notes to all my loved ones. Will I, though?)
And sometimes there may be unexpected blessings in the slow slide to the end. For years I was a Eucharistic minister to a nearby nursing home. I remember two very old and frail ladies, Mary and Dorothy, who shared a room. They couldn't rise from their beds. Dorothy had no family left. They had nothing to look forward to. Yet often Dorothy would say: "Mary, I love you!" And Mary would say: "Dorothy, I love you!" And here I am, nine years on, still deeply touched by their love.
My experience with this — losing both parents to heart disease — leaves me thinking that a relatively quick exit would be my preference. My dad died abruptly at the age of 65 with his fourth heart attack. I was 25 and it was a shock but not a surprise, IYKWIM.
My mom was 80, and had a heart attack that put her in the ICU on life support for three weeks.
When it was apparent that she could only survive on that support, we made the most difficult decision of my life. Those weeks felt very long in the moment, but now, 18 years later, I am grateful we had that brief time to process what was happening and say some kind of goodbye. I never got that with my dad.
Strangely enough, I had a dream last night about dying. It seemed vaguely apocalyptic, as though something quiet and stealthy was killing everyone. I was in a small cabin, alone, and was simply becoming more and more sleepy. I knew that it had been happening to everyone else and my turn was coming. There were candles — some lit and some unlit, and I debated about whether I should light them all, and about whether they would burn down and cause a fire. But then I realized it didn’t matter. I lay down, rested my head on a beautiful magenta and gold patterned pillow, and that’s when the dream ended, as I fell asleep. The feeling was peaceful, not really disturbing. I suppose I’m grappling with the reality of being 60 and realizing over and over again that my time is increasingly finite.
Sari! Yes, please, let's talk more about death. Just briefly, I notice that in this piece there is no mention of our individual agency for enjoying the ending our life project! From the bird's eye view, it is hilarious that 'we' are following a trend to extend life for as long as possible without believing we have agency to choose and enjoy bowing out of this life. I'm not talking about euthanasia or death by medical means. I mean recognizing a natural developmental process that moves toward something new. We don't tend to OWN our lives fully, casually dismissing our vital subjective reality as isolated and disposable. We can't bow out of our bodies and move on, as we do every night when we go to sleep. No wonder so many of us are sad and miserable later in life, expecting that the baby will go down the drain with the bathwater! I say this with impunity because I believe, deep down, we all know better.
Sari — I don’t think there’s a right or wrong answer to “fast or slow.” From my experience as a death doula and former hospice director, what’s better (since in most cases we don't choose how we die) is dying prepared. That means having real conversations about death with the people you love and making a comprehensive plan that covers end-of-life care preferences, advance directives, funeral/body disposition wishes (cremation vs. burial vs. human composting, etc.), organized physical and digital assets, password management, life review, etc.
You mentioned wanting to learn more about death cafés, so I thought I'd mention that I host a virtual one monthly and also facilitate in-person dinners inspired by the Death Over Dinner movement.
Here are a couple of resources, in case useful for you or your readers:
Such a thoughtful post about the ins and outs of dying slow or dying fast. As someone who has written an ethnographical memoir called Old Age Killed My Mother, I can attest to the challenges of helping a loved one die slowly of old age. I'm grateful to know about these two essays you quote from. I, too, thought of my mother's slow dying as taking "the scenic route" to the end. But I also, in writing the book, reimagined the caring-for-your-aging-parents narrative as a rugged domestic adventure--not for the faint of heart--that ends in triumph. We don't give the dying or the caregivers the credit they/we deserve for the commitment and perseverance that helping our loved ones dies demands of us, or see it for the epic accomplishment it truly is.
I should add that I'm a Canadian. Our health system covered my mother's health-care costs when she entered long-term care and she paid only for the room-and-board portion. Her monthly living costs went down, not up, as her care needs increased.
If given a choice, I'd take fast. Even though I'm relatively young, I've lived a good life so far. There's still a lot I want to experience, and most of it is having memorable moments with my grandkids. But I don't want their parents having to take care of me if my quality of life means an endless time of suffering. My wife feels the same. Thankfully, we live in a retirement community that is comfortable talking about these issues. We have resources available to help us understand the choices we have now to prepare for that inevitability. We think it's important to talk about it openly with our kids so everyone is clear about what our wishes are, even though they are written down. I just know that I have been with a lot of close family members when they were at the end of their lives. And despite having some of the best medical care around, I don't want to have to suffer one minute more than I have to like they did, nor have my remaining loved ones watch me suffer. If it's possible, I want them to remember me as the guy that put a smile on their face, someone that put a few dollars in their pocket, and the grandfather that made the best popcorn in the world!
Both my parents wanted to die fast, but both were repeatedly saved by "the system," despite having advanced directives (living wills) and DNRs and communicating their wishes to everyone who would listen. It was infuriating watching them suffer protracted deaths when that was exactly what they did not want.
If you truly want a fast death, then do not call an ambulance. My son, an EMT, told me the 911 call is considered a request for help, and they legally must respond and try to save you -- and then you're in the system. And all this is easier said than done, as NOT calling an ambulance or seeking medical help is horrific.
Sari, I am an artist living in the twin cities and Rogue Buddha Gallery hosts a death cafe that is very popular. I'm sure Nicholas would be more than happy to chat. roguebuddha.com
Thanks for OLDSTER! I am a 68yo who has recently reinvented her life and is settling into exploring a creative life... it's been harder mentally and emotionally than I thought it would be!
Both my parents died young-my father in his sleep of a ruptured cardiac aneurism and my mother with a 2 year painful march of cancer. Both were terrible in different ways. For myself I chose fast, and for the folks who are survivors I would give them the choice of NOW or wait until there is a loss of the quality of life to stay alive. Why is there no discussion of taking your own life? I certainly do not want to be kept alive using up resources and burdening my loved ones. Death of your loved one is always a shock so don’t drag it out dramatically.
Almost 20 years ago I interviewed journalist Ruth Friendly, then in her 80s. He first husband pitched over in his cereal in his 40s. She lost her second one to a series of strokes. So I asked her which was worse, losing a beloved suddenly, with no goodbye, or losing them slowly. She thought for a minute and said, "They're both worse."
Re death cafes, Stacey Gordon, a researcher at at the Center of Health and Aging and Innovation, used to run one. slg584@nyu.edu
Thank you for opening the conversation about death and dying Sari. It's a real and natural part of life that everyone has to navigate. I find that talking and sharing stories brings more awareness and less fear.
Fast or slow, as humans most of us resist the fact that we are going to die, that our loved ones are going to die, that humans die. All of us. Although a slow death is sometimes not dramatic and painful, as you wrote, often it is painful to *witness* and despite the comfort of holding a vigil at a bedside, being present and involved and caring, my experience is that the declaration/appearance of the instance of death is almost always a surprise and a new shock to the system. Despite all the preparations, and sitting, and watching. Sudden death, the helplessness of that, for which there is no real preparation, comes built-in with the shock of death to the living. The only antidote I know for finding some sort of peace with both a fast death or a slow lingering death is to openly, as best as one can considering how difficult some human relationships can be, love and love and love all the time and with the greatest generosity possible.
Yes to love. And not resisting the fact of death. Thank you!
After observing the deaths of people across a few generations, I’d choose a fast death. Get your plans and paper work in order, tell the people you love how you feel, pass on anything important while you can share the reason it matters to you. My husband and I tell each other periodically, “Don’t save me.”
Sari, Death is a topic that scare off most people. On the other hand, I write about it alot after supporting my husband through 12 years of Alzheiemr's, grieving his death (now going on ten years old), and talking about aging as an 80 year old. Through my writings, I have become known to many as "the old age gay guru". You can imagine that being gay, which worships the youth culture, doesn't allow for close looks at getting older or long goodbyes for that matter. I am not afraid to walk right into it with my experiences, lessons, and insights. Thanks for OLDSTER! Fondly, Michael
Thanks for chiming in, Michael. I know you’ve garnered a lot of wisdom around this. Glad you enjoy Oldster!
Honored to know you and Oldster! Fondly, Michael
<3
A death doula I know wrote this in her own advance medical directive: “If I can’t go to a baseball game, follow it, enjoy it and, the next day, remember it, I don’t want to survive.”
She's very serious about that. But to answer your question: I'd like to go fast, but I'd hate leaving things unsaid. (I plan to write notes to all my loved ones. Will I, though?)
And sometimes there may be unexpected blessings in the slow slide to the end. For years I was a Eucharistic minister to a nearby nursing home. I remember two very old and frail ladies, Mary and Dorothy, who shared a room. They couldn't rise from their beds. Dorothy had no family left. They had nothing to look forward to. Yet often Dorothy would say: "Mary, I love you!" And Mary would say: "Dorothy, I love you!" And here I am, nine years on, still deeply touched by their love.
Oh, that’s so beautiful. Cheers to Mary and Dorothy!
My experience with this — losing both parents to heart disease — leaves me thinking that a relatively quick exit would be my preference. My dad died abruptly at the age of 65 with his fourth heart attack. I was 25 and it was a shock but not a surprise, IYKWIM.
My mom was 80, and had a heart attack that put her in the ICU on life support for three weeks.
When it was apparent that she could only survive on that support, we made the most difficult decision of my life. Those weeks felt very long in the moment, but now, 18 years later, I am grateful we had that brief time to process what was happening and say some kind of goodbye. I never got that with my dad.
Strangely enough, I had a dream last night about dying. It seemed vaguely apocalyptic, as though something quiet and stealthy was killing everyone. I was in a small cabin, alone, and was simply becoming more and more sleepy. I knew that it had been happening to everyone else and my turn was coming. There were candles — some lit and some unlit, and I debated about whether I should light them all, and about whether they would burn down and cause a fire. But then I realized it didn’t matter. I lay down, rested my head on a beautiful magenta and gold patterned pillow, and that’s when the dream ended, as I fell asleep. The feeling was peaceful, not really disturbing. I suppose I’m grappling with the reality of being 60 and realizing over and over again that my time is increasingly finite.
Powerful dream. Thanks for sharing this.
Sari! Yes, please, let's talk more about death. Just briefly, I notice that in this piece there is no mention of our individual agency for enjoying the ending our life project! From the bird's eye view, it is hilarious that 'we' are following a trend to extend life for as long as possible without believing we have agency to choose and enjoy bowing out of this life. I'm not talking about euthanasia or death by medical means. I mean recognizing a natural developmental process that moves toward something new. We don't tend to OWN our lives fully, casually dismissing our vital subjective reality as isolated and disposable. We can't bow out of our bodies and move on, as we do every night when we go to sleep. No wonder so many of us are sad and miserable later in life, expecting that the baby will go down the drain with the bathwater! I say this with impunity because I believe, deep down, we all know better.
Interesting! I’ll think more about that. Thanks.
Sari — I don’t think there’s a right or wrong answer to “fast or slow.” From my experience as a death doula and former hospice director, what’s better (since in most cases we don't choose how we die) is dying prepared. That means having real conversations about death with the people you love and making a comprehensive plan that covers end-of-life care preferences, advance directives, funeral/body disposition wishes (cremation vs. burial vs. human composting, etc.), organized physical and digital assets, password management, life review, etc.
You mentioned wanting to learn more about death cafés, so I thought I'd mention that I host a virtual one monthly and also facilitate in-person dinners inspired by the Death Over Dinner movement.
Here are a couple of resources, in case useful for you or your readers:
10 Questions to answer before you die: https://hellomortal.substack.com/p/10-questions-to-answer-before-you
Death Archetypes—a contemplative personality test that sparks conversation and reflection around mortality: https://www.deatharchetypes.com/
Should you pre-pay for your funeral? https://open.substack.com/pub/hellomortal/p/the-one-thing-you-need-to-start-thinking?utm_campaign=post-expanded-share&utm_medium=web
What it means to choose your own death: (I wrote about a MAID conference I attended): https://open.substack.com/pub/hellomortal/p/what-it-means-to-choose-your-own?utm_campaign=post-expanded-share&utm_medium=web
Grateful you’re making room for this topic!!
Thank you for this, and the links! I’ll add them to my repository for the story I’ll do down the line.
Such a thoughtful post about the ins and outs of dying slow or dying fast. As someone who has written an ethnographical memoir called Old Age Killed My Mother, I can attest to the challenges of helping a loved one die slowly of old age. I'm grateful to know about these two essays you quote from. I, too, thought of my mother's slow dying as taking "the scenic route" to the end. But I also, in writing the book, reimagined the caring-for-your-aging-parents narrative as a rugged domestic adventure--not for the faint of heart--that ends in triumph. We don't give the dying or the caregivers the credit they/we deserve for the commitment and perseverance that helping our loved ones dies demands of us, or see it for the epic accomplishment it truly is.
I should add that I'm a Canadian. Our health system covered my mother's health-care costs when she entered long-term care and she paid only for the room-and-board portion. Her monthly living costs went down, not up, as her care needs increased.
Wow!! What a better system.
Thanks for sharing this, Laura. What a fascinating memoir. I’ll drop you a line with the Memoir Land Author Questionnaire to see if you’d like to take it. It’s a great series. See: https://memoirland.substack.com/t/the-memoir-land-author-questionnaire
I would love to! I've been reading them. Thanks!
Sent!
If given a choice, I'd take fast. Even though I'm relatively young, I've lived a good life so far. There's still a lot I want to experience, and most of it is having memorable moments with my grandkids. But I don't want their parents having to take care of me if my quality of life means an endless time of suffering. My wife feels the same. Thankfully, we live in a retirement community that is comfortable talking about these issues. We have resources available to help us understand the choices we have now to prepare for that inevitability. We think it's important to talk about it openly with our kids so everyone is clear about what our wishes are, even though they are written down. I just know that I have been with a lot of close family members when they were at the end of their lives. And despite having some of the best medical care around, I don't want to have to suffer one minute more than I have to like they did, nor have my remaining loved ones watch me suffer. If it's possible, I want them to remember me as the guy that put a smile on their face, someone that put a few dollars in their pocket, and the grandfather that made the best popcorn in the world!
I think I'd choose slow, but without much pain, and that's tricky to arrange.
My question, somewhat related is, do you want to know you're dying or not?
My mom never accepted that she was dying, in fact, she rejected the idea, to the very end. I'm not sure if that is a good or bad thing.
Good question! I guess I’d want to know, and have just enough time to put everything in order before dying an easy death, if possible.
That sounds perfect. I trust I'll be more curious than afraid at the very end.
Both my parents wanted to die fast, but both were repeatedly saved by "the system," despite having advanced directives (living wills) and DNRs and communicating their wishes to everyone who would listen. It was infuriating watching them suffer protracted deaths when that was exactly what they did not want.
Infuriating. A similar thing happened to my mother-in-law.
If you truly want a fast death, then do not call an ambulance. My son, an EMT, told me the 911 call is considered a request for help, and they legally must respond and try to save you -- and then you're in the system. And all this is easier said than done, as NOT calling an ambulance or seeking medical help is horrific.
Good to know. Thanks, Bette.
Sari, I am an artist living in the twin cities and Rogue Buddha Gallery hosts a death cafe that is very popular. I'm sure Nicholas would be more than happy to chat. roguebuddha.com
Here's an article about the gatherings: https://mspmag.com/arts-and-culture/mn-death-cafe/
Thanks for OLDSTER! I am a 68yo who has recently reinvented her life and is settling into exploring a creative life... it's been harder mentally and emotionally than I thought it would be!
Wonderful! Thank you, and for the kind words about Oldster. Will drop a line when I’m ready to write a piece in the spring or summer!
Both my parents died young-my father in his sleep of a ruptured cardiac aneurism and my mother with a 2 year painful march of cancer. Both were terrible in different ways. For myself I chose fast, and for the folks who are survivors I would give them the choice of NOW or wait until there is a loss of the quality of life to stay alive. Why is there no discussion of taking your own life? I certainly do not want to be kept alive using up resources and burdening my loved ones. Death of your loved one is always a shock so don’t drag it out dramatically.
Lynne
Almost 20 years ago I interviewed journalist Ruth Friendly, then in her 80s. He first husband pitched over in his cereal in his 40s. She lost her second one to a series of strokes. So I asked her which was worse, losing a beloved suddenly, with no goodbye, or losing them slowly. She thought for a minute and said, "They're both worse."
Re death cafes, Stacey Gordon, a researcher at at the Center of Health and Aging and Innovation, used to run one. slg584@nyu.edu
Yes, sounds like they are “both worse.” Thanks for Stacey’s contact! Will follow up when I’m ready to tackle the subject.
I'll take fast. No need for someone to make money off of keeping me alive longer than is neccessary. The "do not recitate" papers are signed.
Our library, here in Missoula, has a death cafe, but I have never attended. Maybe I'll check it out.
Thanks for sharing this, Frances.
Thank you for opening the conversation about death and dying Sari. It's a real and natural part of life that everyone has to navigate. I find that talking and sharing stories brings more awareness and less fear.