Preparing to Die

Re: preparation, or lack of same, Lutheran Pastor Rebecca Ninke, [Not Retard], wonders about preparing for our own deaths.

[For the Pastor, [Retard], reference, see periwinklechronicles.blogspot.com for T, 12-15-09.]

I thought about that quite a bit when my first oncologist suggested I would be dead in a year or two. Some of that thinking is in section 5, “When the Night Frights Come,” of NOW THAT I HAVE CANCER I AM WHOLE: Reflections on Life and Healing for Cancer Patients and Those Who Love Them.

At that time, one of the things I did was say “goodbye,” to a few people, but more often to places. It gave me a chance to think through all the events and people of that place and to say goodbye to them within myself, to gain integrity instead of despair for my life there by accepting what had been. Sometimes that included asking forgiveness for faults and brokenness that occurred there.

I did not say goodbye to people with whom I was in daily contact, family and friends, because I did not want to suggest, either to them or to myself, that our time together was over. I thought there would be time for that when the final days did come. In the meantime, I thought it best just to enjoy them and to tell them that I love them.

One of the advantages of a disease like cancer is that you usually have that “saying goodbye” time. In many ways, a quick death, especially if it’s painless, like a massive heart attack, is easier, but you miss the chance to say goodbyes.

One of the things we are usually told if our death is imminent is to “get our affairs in order.” Emotionally, that often entails trying to make broken relationships whole.

I am in favor of trying to repair broken relationships. Jesus reminded us that if our brother has something against us, we should leave our gift at the altar and go and make it right with the brother before continuing our worship. I think that applies to other altars than the one in the church building.

But one needs to be careful. I have seen death-bed confessions to spouses and children and parents and friends that made things worse. Sometimes a dying person’s greatest gift is to take to the grave, alone, knowledge of hurtful events or thoughts. Honesty is not always the best policy, especially at a time when emotions are so raw anyway, and when there is no time to follow up.

One weekend I was on call as the volunteer hospital chaplain. An old woman from a church other than mine was dying. I went to call on her. Her whole family was in the room. She indicated to me that she wanted to talk to me alone. I asked the family to leave. They all did, except for one son, who got right up next to the bed and refused to go. I asked him several times to leave us alone, that his mother wanted to prepare to die. He simply refused. She finally gave up and told me to give up on it, too. She died without whatever confession she felt it was okay to give to a stranger. I admired her for refusing to burden her family with it, even though that one jerk son refused to let her unburden herself.

Some folks tell us to live each day as though it is our last. If I did that, I’d spend all my time telling my friends and family that I love them. After a while they’d get terribly bored with that, and so would I. They’d say, “Don’t you have grass to mow, or something?”

I think I subscribe to the “get prepared to die by living each day to the fullest” theory. Then, regardless of how or when death comes, you’re prepared. You’ve also had a good time, which, after all, is the point of life. [John 10:10.]