How We Do Death

While waiting to attend a focus group for seniors, I read an article on ‘Twixers.’ This term refers to young people ages 24 to 29, who still live at home, have worked numerous jobs since leaving school, are saddled with large education debts, and are not yet ready to get on with transition into adulthood. nnSo I sat there, waiting for seniors who were to share their ‘life wisdom’ with me. In the end, no one came. nnIt seemed rather curious to be reading an article about young people not wanting to get down to the business of living their adult life, as I waited for adults who have been in the business of living for many decades already. Since the universe can send strange messages, I wondered in an investigative and intuitive way, if I was to learn something from this experience. nnOur work during the final stage of life development is to get ourselves ready for the last Great Transition, which is, of course, death. In reality, no one wants to think about death, except those who are fixated on it, and probably have few ways of expressing their fears. nnIn the Western World, unlike in some Eastern cultures, it is certainly not in vogue to undergo elaborate, lengthy preparations to leave this earth. We write wills, create living wills, and mark our worldly possessions to designate who gets what after we are gone. But real care and attention to prepare our essence for its final passing seems to be missing. There is no real guidance for that last great journey we must take alone. nnIt makes me wonder, did the present generation of adults have to work too hard to provide for themselves and their families? Is that why, by the time retirement comes around, so many feel like they have already ‘paid their dues’ and just want to take a break and get from life what they missed? nnDo we now have a generation of Stwixers (senior Twixers) who want to find what was lost along the way? nnThe operative word in the case of the Twixers is they do not want to make the transition into adulthood. They are burdened with debt, get free room and board, and it would seem they just want to hold their cards indefinitely. They are stuck, and from all accounts, the trend is growing. nnStwixers didn’t have that problem at the front end of their lives. There was neither time nor money to get two or three degrees and in many cases, no higher education at all. There were no parents offering free room and board and in those days you couldn’t get out of your parent’s house fast enough. You wanted life to begin! Conversely at the back end of their life, Stwixers are facing a similar conundrum. In a society that deifies youth and would gladly sweep seniors under the carpet, are Stwixers stuck in a no man’s land of lamenting the passage of time and distaste for the inevitable future? nnAre many seniors absorbed in regrets about the past, and do they spend copious amounts of time and energy looking back rather than focusing on the possibilities for their future? Have they worked so hard to achieve their goals and objectives that they are now at a loss for what to do next? Do they choose to act 25 years of age to avoid addressing their current and future reality? nnIt is hard to put a happy face on dying, but it is a guaranteed reality we will all face in our lives. Surely we can find meaningful comfort – somehow, somewhere. nnWhen people die we hear language like “he fought the good fight” or “she died peacefully after a long hard battle.” We use cold corporate language to describe the most personal, most intimate journey one will ever take. Of course we can battle death. But we know that ultimately, death is going to win. After all, that is death’s way. Instead of accepting its inevitability, we have made death an enemy to be feared and fought. nnIn some cultures, it is accepted that death is the doorway through which one must travel to transition into the next existence. There is even a different energy in the words that are used to describe the two outlooks. It seems that the battle stance of the former is replaced by the peaceful face of the latter. nnIt is true there are people who do not believe we go anywhere – we simply die and that is the end. All of us can choose to believe in what we want to believe, and are free to define death in our own way. nnIn terms of your own thoughts and perceptions about death, if the end of your life in this world is the end for you, it does not make your passing less important than someone who believes in an afterlife. Your passing still deserves to be attended to with as much kindness and caring as possible. You are worth it. nnIn the Western World, it seems we grasp a lot as we leave this world. There is little peace in the death process. We have become dedicated to prolonging life at any cost. It is considered a failure for doctors if they lose a patient. We become hugely judgmental when a tube is removed. We want to keep vegetables alive and we want to make sure we are not kept alive when we are vegetables. Palliative care is probably the kindest course of all, but who judges when we are ready for palliative care? nnAs this essay unfolds, thoughts of my own death come to mind. Perhaps that is why this is being written – not because I will die well, or better, or put up a fiercer fight. Maybe this is simply the kind of work I need to do in order to get ready for my own death. Maybe this book will cause you to take a second look at your own life. nnIf you don’t think you have acquired the skills needed in order to fully live out your final stage in life, begin now – whatever your age – to consider ways that will enhance the specific skills you will need for your own Great Transition. nnBecause when it is your time to die, it is your time. Even though the Twixers hope it is not so, and Stwixers the same… Life will dictate otherwise. nnExcerpt from Judee Regan's book 'We Don't Die Well In the Western World: A message of Hope'. Copyright 2003 by Judee Regan. All Rights Reserved. Please feel free to duplicate or distribute this file as long as the excerpt is not altered and this copyright notice is intact. Thank you. n