By seizing every opportunity for kindness, forgiveness, healing, and love that crosses my path each day, I hope that my death, although perhaps sad for some, will be gracefully concluded.
The shift from thinking that I must feel forgiveness to the practice of repetitive giving forgiveness has helped me in my healing journey.
Surrendering to the best of my abilities when the price of life has outweighed its benefit may be a compassionate choice for me and those around me.
By acknowledging my impermanence, I can consider if there is anything I can do now to help my loved ones who will be left behind cope with losing me and to facilitate healing.
I am not knocking advances that provide a healthier life and alleviate suffering or unnecessary premature death. I am advocating inclusion of education on end-of-life matters and the promotion of understanding, conversation, and planning.
As I enlarged my vision to see the bigger picture of my dad’s full life, I was better able to let go of being stuck in memories of its end.
As I inch forward to embrace my life again by being mindful, writing books, and planning adventures, I sense my dad would approve. I know he would want me to be happy.
I am certain that I’m not the only one who would like to have a do-over on an interaction with a loved one.
A paradigm shift of viewing palliative care or hospice as a gift instead of seeing it as giving up has the potential to change the way we experience advanced age.
If the push towards life sustaining technology were balanced with options for comfort care in both medical school training and the healthcare culture, more people would have the chance to transition to death with dignity and grace.
I believe it’s imperative to bring the light of support and knowledge to patients and families when death is approaching.
Without guidance and support for patients and families approaching death, there may be unnecessary conflict, confusion, and trauma that linger long after the passing of a loved one.
It behooves me to remember as I advance in age that death is an inevitable part of the life cycle rather than a medical failure.
My dad’s life was magnificent, but only if I let myself see and remember more than his years of decline.
When I contemplate life as well as death, I am discovering what really matters to me now.