Many baby boomers, often unexpectedly and for long periods, will likely be called to provide care for a loved one, and it is my hope that anyone could gain strength, encouragement and inspiration through the real-life caregiving stories.
I like to imagine what our lives and society would be like if we lived in a world that encouraged and valued existential maturity. What would it be like if we were taught and motivated to connect to a deep sense of self and to live our lives from that place?
It is only when you become aware of death that you want to know what life is about. Once you come to terms with death and you are conscious that you will die, you will want to make every moment of your life as beautiful as possible.
National Healthcare Decisions Day (NHDD) falls conveniently every April 16 so you can deal with the difficult matters of death and taxes all in one week. NHDD is one day when we're asked to put our own discomfort aside and think about the loved ones we leave behind.
Untimely death happens so that the humans left behind might take another, fresher look at their lives, experience renewed appreciation for the gift they can still claim, and become a bit more thankful, a bit more humble.
Eighteen years ago, Dr. Peter Goodwin led the fight to grant Oregonians the right to end-of-life choice. Terminally ill with a rare, fatal brain disease with no known cure, Peter exercised the right to a peaceful death he helped secure.
The dictionary defines suicide as "the act of taking one's own life voluntarily and intentionally." The intent was clear in both cases. Both John and Mary wanted to end their lives as quickly as possible. Why did the method matter?
You've likely heard the story of Barbara Johnson, who was denied holy communion by the priest officiating at the funeral of her beloved mother. But that priest is the sole villainous Catholic in a story starring a great many heroes.
Over the years as a community pastor, like most pastors, I attended to death, funerals and grieving in my town. Over the years, many times, the grieving would pull me aside and say, "Preacher, I had this dream..."