Leafing through my Final Exit Network quarterly publication, I came to an article by a man with beginning stage Alzheimer’s disease. This man is all for having a meaningful life for his remaining time and planning for his end of life choices. He is exploring methods of hastening his death if his condition becomes unbearable. He seemed so normal, so practical, so conscientious.
Toward the end of the article, he says he’s trying to face uncertainty, live intentionally and plan thoughtfully. This really resonated, as I feel we are all trying to do just that, on some level or another.
It could be beginning Alzheimer’s, or just our bones hurting, or a nagging this or that, or a major illness. Sometimes I feel like I’m glued together with cortisone. Are we starting to use some of those medications advertised on TV? There is uncertainty ahead. Our age alone makes these words even more profound. How to face it? How to accept it with honesty? How to be comfortable with it?
Living intentionally. Yes. Simplifying, knowing our own limits, living lightly on this planet. And finding balance in being in the out-there world and being in the quieter, more introspective place? How do we find the new routines and ways of living that accommodate us and those around us more easily? What can we let go of and what is really meaningful now?
Planning thoughtfully is the new norm. How many doctor appointments do we really want as we look ahead? Have we written our plans for death for loved ones? Left them some kind of written statement about our life and what it has meant? Legal papers? DNRs? FEN memberships? Have we shifted our homes around to make things easier, safer, cleaner, less of a hassle? And do we need help now? Someone to come in and clean, or fix things, or whatever it takes to stay in our homes? What about a cook? A driver?
It’s a lot and I find myself doing another layer of cleaning out – burning old journals, going through clothing, old paperwork, kitchen things I never use.
It’s fascinating, what we think we need to hold onto (that’s a whole other column). “I’ll wear that someday,” yeah right. “I may need this for ...,” “Fun for my kids to find.” I have made three piles – a give away or a try to sell pile, a throw in the trash pile, and an I’m-just-not-sure-yet pile. I found this third group comforting, I just don’t have to decide right now. The process has made me ask, what is of true and lasting value to me?
I’m trying to face the unknown with an open heart. Living with some kind of recognition and awareness. And planning with love and care. Perhaps this next phase of old age is really about an initiation or a willingness to welcome our own demise. A friendship with death, our final journey. A transcendence of sorts. A real learning about the ultimate letting go, the nonattachment to form or outcome.
How do we do this with some grace? And compassion for those who will miss us, grieve us and certainly celebrate us?
More questions than answers, I realize. But all good things to ponder as we pull back and spend more time just being. Each person must find their own path, this is but a musing, and a strong mantra from an ill man.
Martha McClellan has lived in Durango since 1993 and has been an educator, consultant and writer. Reach her at mmm@bresnan.net.
