A Good Death

So, occasionally I think about death. Not obsessively or in a bad way, but face it, I’m older and some of my friends have died. I am definitely in a different phase of life than I was five years ago. All of sudden material things have very low value. (This is a good thing because my income has declined significantly since Dan retired.)

There are several books out there that friends have recommended about death. I’ll never read them. Why? Because I want to make up my own mind AND…well, blush, stammer, they are non-fiction, which is boring to me and I don’t do anything that bores me.

However, these friends have basically told me the whole book so it doesn’t matter if I read it or not. I know what it says.

We all have to make some choices when it comes to death. We have to chose the final medical interventions, we have to chose to fight or give in, we have to chose who we tell, how we give away our belongings etc, etc.

But the choice I was thinking about was the choice to put my own needs first, or those of my family. I have had many conversations with friends about the meaning of “selfish” and those come to play here. In another conversation with a friend, this one about choices of treatment when someone has cancer, she made the statement that someone’s choice to NOT have treatment wasn’t fair to her family.

Hmmmm…..I have already decided that I won’t have chemotherapy. I know I might change my mind, but the thought of weeks of nausea and headaches really, really scares me.

It scares me more than death. I want a good death. Like the time I almost drowned and the white light appeared and I felt absolutely peaceful. Yes, I know I don’t get to choose that part…but maybe I can set the stage?

Enough rambling for now. I think I’ll go think about life instead.