I am really old, and I know death is imminent. Most of my friends have passed away, and of those remaining, they suffer from health problems in some way. I am myself totally deaf and partially blind. I live by myself. I am writing this at 6 a.m. in the morning.
Our job as parents is to help our children deal with worrisome information by understanding how they think and process information at this formative time in their lives, and by giving them information they need to manage their thoughts and worries
Both Brittany and Kara write beautiful justifications for their positions on life (and death), and I admire both women -- Brittany for taking ownership of her life and the way she wants it to end, and Kara for fighting to be present with her family and to find ultimate meaning in her suffering.
Beyond green burials, recent years have seen a wave of entrepreneurs offering creative options for those who choose cremation.
But when your mom passes away, your perspective shifts. Your sense of normal -- which included having your mom in your life until you were at least middle-aged -- is altered. You reevaluate your expectations and priorities.
It's war torn and sepia-colored now, parchment like, but the little scrap of paper containing this verse has long been a treasure of mine, a template for any poem I write.
In the end, living wills are a gift -- to yourself and to your family. Because even though I wanted more than anything to leave my mother on life support, I knew that by taking her off of it, I was supporting her vision of life, and helping her control how she died.
He was like a guardian unto me. His grey fedora the rim of my world, smiling down all around me, bobbing up down on his fat knees. He was a dancer actually, and quite a good one at that too.
The severing of a love relationship through death fractures the foundation of the bereaved. Our culture's common belief that one must rapidly get up and move on after such a loss results in denying death and repressing grief.
Since we assign relative value and purpose to everything in our lives, how we deal with loss pretty much depends on who has just disappeared. When enemies are destroyed we feel pleased and vindicated.
As he puts it: "...death is a loss... but...living too long is also a loss." It's a question of which we prefer, a shorter more vibrant life, or a longer one in which we eventually will have to cope with the challenge of a slow decline.
If such an idea, lurking innocently behind the good doctor's thinking, gains traction, generations, many not yet born, are all doomed to have the government one day decide what age would be the most cost-effective and propitious period to cut off the life of a human being. Advances in science will, of course, make that number a moving target.
Known as Summerwind Mansion, the ruins are well known throughout the country with paranormal investigators, enthusiasts and thrill seekers.
For at least one second, 17,000 people are forced to think about and remember my father. Whether they knew him or not, they know me. They either learn for the first time that my father is no longer with us, or they reflect on their own memory of his passing. No matter what their thought process is, they are remembering my father too.
Many people who do not want to die in an intensive care unit, intubated, on a respirator, pierced by a web of intravenous lines are dying this way. For these individuals, this is worse than death. We cannot prevent death, but we can dictate how we want to be cared for at the end of our lives.
My father, who founded our company with a nine-stool root beer stand in 1927, came from a family of eight children. His widow, Judy Cannon Marriott, passed away on August 24. She would have been 98 on September 20. She was the last surviving member of my dad's family -- thus, the end of an era.