My friend Emily recently attended her friend Trudy’s “Last Hurrah” party. Emily and Trudy have known one another for 20 years in the context of chaplaincy work. Trudy is 86, recently received a diagnosis of aggressive cancer, and is forgoing treatment and choosing Medical Aid in Dying. She gathered friends, family, and colleagues, and they had a tearful lovefest.
Trudy had her belongings on the porch and bags for people to take whatever they wanted. She shared an oral history of her life, and others shared how much they love her. Trudy has been teaching groups about death and dying for years, and she is now LIVING what she has practiced. She is not scared of death, and encourages us that this is possible for us, too. Watching the 30-minute video that Emily took (email me if you want a link), I realized that what Trudy got is what I want. A long, purposeful life that includes a relationship with death, and the ability to choose not to prolong life in the face of a dire diagnosis. Of course there are many things that are outside of our control. But if we are of sound mind now, we can make decisions that will help us and help the people who survive us. And maybe even get a party out of the deal!
I always joke that I want lots of people at my funeral, and I want them to talk about the love between us. Even better? Doing it while we can look at each other.
I’m convinced that Trudy’s comfort with death is part of what enabled her to live long and healthily. She offered end-of-life coaching and met a boyfriend because of it! He was in the video, and they joked about the very short-term nature of their relationship.
Trudy’s story doesn’t have to be an anomaly. In Washington and 10 other states, we can choose Medical Aid in Dying, and we can certainly prepare ourselves emotionally and spiritually for death by the work we do now. No one gets out of this life alive, and it won’t be any different with you and me. And by “prepare,” ‘I don’t mean decide who your possessions are going to, though that might be part of your process. I mean things like decide at what point you want life-saving treatment to stop. Decide what relationships you want to reconcile. Think about who needs to hear, “Thank you, I forgive you, please forgive me, I love you.” It’s hard to address existential pain when we are in physical pain. The time is now.
And in spite of all my enthusiasm for Trudy’s story, I’ve also learned that there is no such thing as a “good death.” (For some amazing stories about this, I recommend Frank Ostaseski’s book The Five Invitations). Pain, suffering, grief, impermanence, things left undone, relationships left unhealed, bitterness, confusion. All of these things are part of life—they will be part of death too. I feel a strange relief in accepting this. We are human until the end.
Whatever is going on for you today, that’s my hope for you, for me, that we accept and live into our full humanity. How achingly complicated and beautiful it all is.
P.S. I have had two other people in my choose Medical Aid in Dying recently and were both helped by End of Life Washington. I’ve also promoted the Five Wishes paperwork to several of you, which is a trusted healthcare directive tool. And if you’re in Whatcom County, my friend Brian and his staff have created an amazing funeral home that aims to “heal our relationship with death.”