Slice of Life

In college one of my favorite courses was entitled “Humans Being.” It was an interesting study on what it means to be human. We explored various concepts, facts and emotions, taking an in depth look at differing views and responses to common themes of being human such as happiness, forgiveness, love and one of the most interesting for me, death. Why was it interesting? Because as a child I was raised to believe no one gets out of life alive, so I was surprised that for many, death is a difficult subject. But before I go further, a little housekeeping on other human topics. Forgiveness and making an honest mistake.

In my column last month, “Exercising our rights,” I erroneously stated the Trout Creek School District election had a 94% turnout. The statistics for each board position voted on were accidentally added together to reach that high mark. The correct numbers are for one three-year term, 31.8% voted, for one two-year term, 37.3% voted, for a one-year term, 24.6% voted. This rounds up to the reported 94%. It actually is an average of 31.23%. I promise better due diligence in the future!

So as human beings we make mistakes, rising to some occasions and falling short on others. But one thing we all have in common is at some point, we all will die. Life as we know it will fail to go on, our bodies will wear out, accidents will occur, disease will strike. All of this was brought abruptly to my mind among these dark, cloudy, spring days by the untimely and unexpected passing of an acquaintance of mine. Let’s call her Elizabeth for this column. Not only was it a reminder that we all should cherish each day we are blessed with, it also recalled the mechanics and details of death. You know, the things most of us don’t want to consider.

It was interesting to see family that had not seen Elizabeth for over a decade arrive and take inventory. Call attorneys. Make decisions that didn’t feel right to the friends who had become family to her before her death. It was heart breaking to see judgments passed on her by people who didn’t really know her any longer and see her cherished possessions parceled out. Elizabeth was strong and healthy with no need to be worried. Until suddenly she wasn’t. And in a few short days, it was over. She had not taken time yet to plan for this day to come. A hurried will that is being contested, a brief conversation regarding her remains. So many decisions at a difficult, emotional time.

Watching this made me consider what I would want. And to let those around me know my preferences. I’m not talking about wills and trusts or advanced directives with your medical provider. While those are great, having a conversation with those you love most and putting a few details in writing for them to refer to, would be a gift.

Author Michael Hebb has approached this topic with great insight and humor. He has spearheaded a movement called “Let’s talk About Death, Over Dinner.” His goal is to help people broach a subject that many find uncomfortable. Hebb posits that in sharing about our fears or hopes regarding death, with those we love, we can develop a better understanding and maybe even a peace, before we are faced with the reality. How do we want to be remembered? What was the most important part of our life, from our point of view? What type of service do we want? Do we want a service? For those who feel lost trying to have this conversation, Dinner with Death provides resources on what to talk about.

In a conversation about death with a friend she surprised me by sharing she has an “exit strategy.” She has struggled with life threatening illness in the past and endured many medical procedures. She has a zest for life that many could take as an example of how to live, but she shared regardless of how fully she lives, she wants to die as decidedly. I would never have expected that was her choice if we had not talked about my writing on this topic.

Another friend who took time to decide on how she wanted to be remembered and have family and friends deal with her passing, left a permanent mark of joy on my heart with her choices. When faced with terminal cancer she lived every day until she didn’t. And as she planned for the inevitable, she had a small-scale Viking ship built to carry her ashes out to sea. As she wished, we all gathered along the shore to send her out on a final voyage. She did float back three times before heading off, but that was just Ginny, always making us smile.

When you read this column, we should almost be welcoming the first day of summer. Don’t let the sunshine distract you. I encourage you to share with friends and family your thoughts on the one thing we all have in common, death. Go have that conversation with those you care for. Then go out, celebrate summer, and fully live your life until the time comes when you won’t. Be in peace.

Chelle is a recovering social worker who currently works as a licensed massage therapist at Cherry Creek Myotherapy. She moved to Montana with her husband David and two pups, Lucas and Turner, where they seek “the quiet life” amid new adventures.