When you are young, you don’t think much of dying; in fact, you tend to think of yourself as immortal, viewing death as a distant concept, almost like something that happens only to others. As you become older, however, the perception shifts dramatically. You start to grapple with the reality of mortality, reflecting on loved ones who have passed and the inevitability of your own departure. This shift in thinking can be unsettling, prompting deeper contemplation about life itself, the choices you’ve made, and the legacy you wish to leave behind. The once distant specter of death gradually becomes a more immediate concern, shaping not just your fears, but also your aspirations and values in profound ways.
I am over eighty, and I am thinking more about death than when I was younger. My parents passed away when they were both seventy-five, a stark reminder of the fragility of life, and their health problems started to appear in their late sixties, foreshadowing an inevitable decline that I have witnessed. Close to three years ago, I had a near-death experience, which profoundly changed my perspective on life and mortality; it was a moment that forced me to confront my fears and contemplate what it means to truly live. Now, I am savoring every precious moment of this bonus time on this earth, appreciating the beauty of each sunrise, the laughter shared with loved ones, and the simple joys that life offers. I find myself reflecting on the memories of those I have lost; while also embracing the new relationships I have forged along the way, understanding that life is a precious gift that should never be taken for granted.
My mother was afflicted with bone cancer and bravely battled this disease for more than five years, demonstrating a strength that inspired everyone around her. After extensive treatments, which included the removal of the cancer alongside many difficult sessions of chemotherapy and radiation, we were overjoyed when the demon went into remission. For a period of four to five years, we held onto hope, cherishing every day as a blessing and celebrating the moments when she seemed to regain her health. However, the shadow of the illness returned with a vengeance, as the demon came back very aggressively, catching us off guard. It migrated to other parts of her body, relentlessly spreading and undermining her strength until it finally took her from us. Her death was slow and very painful, a heartbreaking process that left a profound mark on our family and a reminder of the cruel nature of illness.
My father was visiting California and he was scheduled to start driving home in the morning, excited to return to his familiar surroundings. He called me the next morning, his voice tinged with discomfort as he said he had an upset stomach and was going to wait another day before he started to drive home. Concerned, I suggested he take it easy and perhaps see a doctor if he didn’t feel better soon. That evening, his niece called, sharing the news that she had gone to get some take out for dinner. When she returned, my father was found on the floor, lifeless and still. It turned out he was having a heart attack and didn’t even know it – a silent, deadly intruder that took him without warning. That major mistake of ignoring his discomfort and not seeking help cost him his life, leaving a void in our hearts that would be felt for years to come.
Recently, my friend had multiple heart bypass surgery, a significant procedure that can have a profound impact on one's life. He is in his mid-seventies, a time when health becomes increasingly fragile and precious. How long will this surgery extend his life? Only time will tell, and the uncertainty of that answer weighs heavily on both his mind and the hearts of those who care for him. Will this life-saving surgery expose him to a more painful and slow death, potentially leading him down a path filled with complications? This surgery may save him from heart failure, allowing him to experience more time with loved ones, yet it brings with it concerns about the possibility of battling another illness, such as cancer. The reality is sobering: cancer and heart disease are the biggest killers in the US, creating an overwhelming sense of vulnerability. Each day post-surgery is a delicate balance between hope and worry, as we eagerly anticipated his recovery while grappling with the harsh realities of health in our later years.
A couple of years ago, another friend of mine was out in the brisk winter air, running his snow-blower to clear the driveway and make way for vehicles. He was a hardworking individual, dedicated to ensuring everything was in order, but tragically, he suddenly fell over dead from an aortic aneurysm. The shock came swiftly, as it happened without any warning. His wife, who had been inside the warm house preparing a hot drink, grew concerned when she didn’t see him come in after some time. She then ventured outside, only to discover him laying motionless on the ground in the snow, a scene that would forever haunt her. It was a heartbreaking moment, filled with disbelief and sorrow, reminding us all of life’s fragile nature.
My wife’s mother was in her nineties, a remarkable age for anyone to reach, yet in her last year, her health had deteriorated significantly to the point that she could no longer walk and had lost all control of her bodily functions, which was deeply distressing for the entire family. Despite this decline, medical authorities reassured us that her heart and lungs sounded good, indicating that there were still vital signs of life, but it left us wondering about the quality of her existence. Why did she have to experience that sorry state of being? It was heart-wrenching to see a once vibrant individual reduced to such a condition, and the quality of life had taken a bad turn for her, leaving us to grapple with feelings of helplessness as we navigated through the complexities of aging and the eventual fragility of life.
These are just a few examples of death and suffering that I have experienced in my life. Death is a part of life, a natural cycle that eventually claims us all. All of us must someday face the inevitability of this event, each in our own way and at our own time. The experiences I have witnessed have shaped my understanding of mortality and the fleeting nature of existence. Even now that I am closer to the event, I still can’t answer the question, How do I want to die? This uncertainty prompts me to reflect deeply on my life and the legacy I wish to leave behind, worrying about the impact of my departure on those I love and how they will carry on without me. It is a thought-provoking and haunting consideration that lingers in my mind, intertwining with the hopes and fears I have for the future.
This blog was originally posted on WordPress January 28, 2011. Out of curiosity, I thought to take the same story and have AI enhance it. Here is the link to the original post. https://tomt2.com/2011/01/28/how-do-you-want-to-die/
What are your thoughts on the old post versus the new post?
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