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Managing The Stress ~ Making The Decisions ~ Discovering The Meaning |
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Caregiving |
Solutions To Your Caregiving Situations Throughout Your Caregiving Years |
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Death and Dying Your Thoughts
(Editor’s Note: In preparation for the March 2001 issue of Caregiving! newsletter, which featured the series of articles about death, I asked family, friends and colleagues to share their thoughts about how they would like to die. Their timeless thoughts follow.—Denise M. Brown)
I would like to die very unexpectedly. No anticipation. No long illnesses. No surgeries hoping to save my life. No hospitals. No hospice.
I would like my wake and funeral to be a happy time. Food should be served at the wake (good finger sandwiches and appetizers) and then a luncheon after the funeral. Hopefully my family and friends will be there reminiscing about the good times. I would like some good 80's tunes to be playing over the loudspeakers at the wake so people could dance if they wanted. I also would like to be surrounded by and buried with pretty, sweet-smelling flowers. --Julie Aho, (Denise's sister), age 35
I would rather ask the question, "How would I want others to see my death"?
We know that funerals are for the living and not the dead! For the Bible says the dead know nothing. (Eccl. 9:5,6)
I would like for my family and friends to all gather around and just thank God for all the good times He has given us. And to sing beautiful songs of praise! And to know that this is just a small moment in our life.
And that one day there will be no more tears. (Rev. 21:4)
If I could ask for one thing, it would be that somehow during my life, I allowed God to use me to lead someone to Him. And then see that person face-to-face in heaven one day. And see how God leads! WOW!
And for my life not to have been just a moment in time, but a lifetime for eternity! To be able to know that one day these tears will pass away.
And how I can't wait to open my eyes and see Jesus! To see Him and His angels coming in the clouds. (Matt. 24:30; Matt. 25:31)
And to know that every eye will see Him coming. (Rev. 1:7)
Oh, how I want my friends and family to know that this is not the end of the book, but just the chapter.
And I would like for them to be happy! And to always remember how much I loved them! And I don't want them to worry and cry so much...just hold to Jesus and KNOW that His words are true!
And one day soon, He will be coming back to take His people home! (1 Thess. 4:13-18)
And we will be together again, with no more sin!
We are almost HOME! --Debi Gentry, Contributing Editor, Caregiving newsletter, age 42
Being the oldest in the family, you'd think I would have given it some thought. Truth is I have not. I know how I don't want to die. What would I want if I had a say in it?
First, I know what songs I'd want at my funeral Mass. Being somewhat optimistic, I'd want "Going Home". (Read "up") Secondly, I'd want "Here I am Lord". (How could he refuse?) I would like my family to say a few kind words. (A little white lie or two couldn't hurt.)
Do I want to go off like an old elephant to an elephants' graveyard? Not really. Do I want a lot of tubes and machines? No. Do I want to die before my wife? I know I would be very unhappy without her. On the other hand, she and that guy Carlos could travel a lot if I went first. Would I be someone worth remembering? I hope my grandchildren think so. Is there more that I want to accomplish? Yes! But, because we know not where or when, I'd better get to it, you never know. --Roger Loeffler (Denise's Dad), age 70
I had never thought about how I wanted to die. But after my father's death, my husband, trying to console me, talked about how wonderful my father's life had been and how there was no better way to end his life. After my mom and dad retired, they sold their home and bought a RV. They traveled all over the U.S. for 2 and 1/2 years. They finally ended up in Arizona in Lake Havasu City in a small part of town with other retirees.
My father had a heart condition for 25 years or so but still led an active live. He loved to talk. He passed away in his favorite chair one morning watching his favorite program about his stock. I had finally gotten really close to him as one adult to another. He would call me on Sundays just to talk and I really miss that. But I am so glad he had the life he did and passed the way he did.
I want to be in my favorite place with the people I love and doing exactly the things I love to do best. I would only want the ones who could understand the fact that I was only moving from one experience to another--not leaving them. My children, grandchildren (when old enough) will know when I leave that I will always be with them. I have tried to teach my children that when I leave here that I will always be with them. All they have to do is think of me; I will always be part of them and not to miss or mourn for me. --Pam Beck, age 54, and family caregiver to her mother
I want to be in my house which has a beautiful view over a hillside with old maple trees and over the Wabash river. It changes with the seasons. I want to listen to music by Mozart, Schubert or Chopin; maybe my oldest granddaughter Aubryn would play it for me? I want my daughter and her family to be with some friends and me; maybe they can take turns. It is important that they come out of their own free will, because I want my last hour to be a moment of spiritual awareness. My funeral should be a celebration of my life memorizing the events, illustrated with pictures. Again, I want classical music to be played. Flowers are an important part of the celebration. I prefer cremation and I want to be buried next to my late husband's and my son's urns under the red maple tree I have planted, so my remains are protected and shaded. --Ingrid Clever, former family caregiver to her son, and contributor to Caregiving newsletter
I would be surrounded by family. Hopefully, it would not be a sad time, but one filled with thinking about all of the good times we shared. I would be at peace knowing my family would be taken care of after I am gone. My funeral would have to be on a sunny day. A cloudy, rainy day would be too depressing. A small informal party would follow, with good food and some laughs. --Keith Loeffler (Denise's brother), age 41
At peace, surrounded by loved ones, in touch with my spirit and fully at peace about my transition; knowing that my next phase is part of the natural evolution. --Cynthia Stringer, Personal and Professional Coach, Success By Design
I've been told on numerous occasions that my close circle of friends and family fully expect me to help them walk toward death's door. Consequently, there is a good chance that I will not be surrounded by loved ones when it's time for me to die--I would have most likely outlived them all (one of the penalties of being a health nut and exercising everyday).
In spite of not being surrounded by people that I know, I envision my final moments to be peaceful--for I would have said my good-byes, expressed sorrow for grievances that I may have caused others, and would have forgiven others for the hurts they may have bestowed upon me.
My slate would be clean. There would be no regrets having consciously lived my life "full out." I would greet God ready to serve Him as I have tried to do on earth. --Joy Loverde, author, The Complete Eldercare Planner
I was reading the latest Sports Illustrated this morning which had a big story on the death of the NASCAR driver Dale Earnhardt. He was killed at Daytona on Sunday February 18th. It reminded me of Walter Payton (a former Chicago Bears football player who died in November 1999 of cancer at the age of 45). Walter was so strong and powerful--all those years with the Bears he seemed invincible. He must have been a shadow of his former self when he died. Earnhardt was at the peak of his skills. He understood the risks and dangers of his profession. He is quoted in the article as saying that racing was in his blood, "It's who I am". He died doing something that meant more to him than life itself. I compare that to Walter being totally eaten away with his illness. I would prefer to die like Earnhardt, doing something that meant more than life itself, something you could not live without. --Tim Loeffler (Denise's brother), age 40
I'd want to be in my own bed, surrounded by all my closest friends and family, reliving fond memories from our life together, looking through the many photo albums that I have kept all my life, and laughing as much as possible --Jacqueline Marcell, author, Elder Rage or, Take My Father... Please!
I would like not to be that old, in good health and have just spent a week with my son and daughter, and grandchildren and spouses, in a beautiful rented home on the Maine Coastline overlooking the ocean, with the family just hanging out together, playing our usually fun games of Hide-N-Go-Seek, water color painting on the rocks overlooking the lighthouse. Everyone feeling very loved. And, returning home with everyone, feeling like they had just had the most wonderful family moments. Hopping in bed, perhaps having an aneurysm in my sleep and waking up in heaven. Rather than a funeral, I would want everyone to just have a big party to celebrate--perhaps at a park. Next best thing would be Enoch, who just walked right out of this world into heaven. --Sandy Eskns, age 53, family caregiver to her parents
When I die I want to be in the same bed, in the same room, where my ever-present husband was. Open the shades and the four windows wide, regardless of the season. Amazing Grace is my choice of music. I would like for me to be in the middle of our king-size bed with Heather and Clayton (Mary's children) having my arms wrapped around them. If at all possible, I would like not to be so severely sedated that I am unaware of their presence. It is too much for me to ask them not to cry, but I pray their tears will be over their loss, not mine. I would also like for George's cousin Tom, who is a missionary, to lead us in prayer. The Our Father would be best. Before my shell is removed, I would like to have Heather put me in the red dress which is being made for me and brush my hair. When my shell is out of the bed I would like the children to place a dozen red roses on the bed. Laying the Bible with them, opening to John 3:16.
Join my ashes with my husband's, spreading them as one into the Cape Cod canal with the song "Love You a Little Bit More" by Dr. Hook playing on the tape recorder. ("When your body has had enough of me, and I'm laying right out on the floor. When you think I've loved you all I can. I'm gonna love you a little bit more.")
Am I afraid to die? No, not at all. I look forward to the day I can return to my Heavenly Father. I know my George, Mom, Dad, two sisters, my brother and my infant child will meet me at those Golden Gates.
Rejoice, for My Heavenly Mansion has been prepared. --Mary Dineen, Caregiver of the Year 2000 Award Recipient, who cared for her husband until his death in December 2000.
I want my last day to be full of sunshine. I would love to be near an open window, sun shining and a nice breeze coming through. Music is essential, but I am not sure what kind. My music taste changes with my mood, and I cannot imagine what that mood will feel like. I want to be surrounded by my children, their children, my spouse (hopefully) and my friends. I want everyone to share their stories about experiences with me, sharing with the younger generations what our lives were like. I want them to remember me as a whole person, not just grandma. --Anna Walters, Anna Walters, RN Coordinator, Waud Resource Center, Chicago, and family caregiver to her parents
It is funny that you bring this up at a time when I have just attended three funerals in the last month. It does make one think about how one would like it to go. I don't believe in viewings; think that funerals are expensive "shows". But, I feel that a memorial service for a deceased person, held in a place he or she was most comfortable, is the best tribute (whether it be a church, garden, sports arena or just a person's favorite room) is most appropriate. That is what I have requested of my family. I envision myself leaving this earth quietly and I am a firm believer that no matter how we die, whether it be of natural causes or whatever else, we are totally and completely alone for the one and only time in our being. Even if there is a crowd of friends and family around us; they are not part of this very personal and spiritual event.
I enjoy the beach and would like my "service" to be held there. I believe that everyone must have some type of closure in order to proceed on when a loved one has made the trek to "the other side", so some sort of service is necessary...but nothing extravagant or complex. --Nancy Sharp, 53, and family caregiver to her mother
I would like it to be Springtime with the birds singing outside my window, and the sun shining brightly. It would be great if all four of my children could be with me and we could share good memories of our past, laughing as we remembered some of the funnier times.
I would want music playing softly in the background, either hymns or one of the great classics, such as Handel or Mozart. And finally, I would want my children to join hands with me as we all recite the 23rd Psalm as I drifted into the Other Dimension, and I hope they will shed no tears for me.
For my funeral I want it to be a celebration of my life. --Dorothy Snyder, age 73 and family caregiver to her husband
It's funny but I have often thought what I wanted to happen after I died, but not how I'd die. I have become a minority with my feelings about death. I do not want any type of service or memorial. I want my body to be given to any medical group that can use it to do what it wants with it. I have been to several funerals of immediate family, (Dad, sister, brother) and I will not attend another, nor do I want my family to have to attend mine. They can think of me privately.
How I would like to die...I would prefer to be alone with just a moment to reflect before it happens. I would like to be where it is warm and sunny. If music was playing that would be perfect. --Patricia Viveros, age 52, family caregiver to her mother
I want to be in a room full of flowers, listening to a compilation of my favorite songs. I want my brothers, sisters, their spouses, and my nieces and nephews with me. I want them to share their favorite memories of our life together and I want them to sing along to my favorite songs. I hope to die during the day, with the sun warming my face. I want the sun to shine on my funeral day, as well, and I want to buried in my favorite party outfit, with my favorite book, my favorite CD and a picture of my family. After the service, I want my family to enjoy a nice lunch (perhaps a really juicy burger), a really good, cold beer and appreciate how good life is. --Denise M. Brown, age 38
My only wish for death is a peaceful one where no person must have taken care of me, giving up their own life for mine. I'd it like to be quick, clean and over fast. I don't want any mourning because life is for the living and, hopefully, I'll be in a much better place and very, very happy.
My wish is to be cremated and my ashes spread over the graves of my two sisters and my mother.
That's it for me. No frills, no tears, and a mercifully quick parting from this world.
This I've learned from being a caregiver.
--Michele Murphy, family caregiver to her mom
I know I want to die at home, in my own bed, with people who care for me at my side. I'd like my daughters to sing and play their instruments. (Getting the piano in my bedroom is a logistical problem I'm not going to attempt to solve right now.) I hope that my pain will be managed so that I can be comfortable and still cognizant of my surroundings and the opportunities for closure at hand. I'd like to hear my favorite Bible passages, the ending to "Middlemarch," and Mozart's Requiem Mass.
More important, in some ways, is that I want to believe that day, in my bedroom, that I tried to devote my life to growing as a person and not "settling" for the easy or the comfortable. I want to believe that I tried, whenever possible, to be kind to others and forgiving of human frailty. I know I fail at these things routinely, so I hope I can also forgive myself for my (many, many) mistakes. I hope that I can take that mindset (along with a realistic attitude) into my daily living. We prepare for our deaths our entire lives, I believe. --Marianne Griebler (Denise's sister), age 42
Working Within the Laws of Nature Ethics Committees Help Iron Out Disagreements Bereavement is as Personal Experience as Caregiving Knowing What to Expect Helps You Help Your Care Recipient |
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