Two Kinds Of Deaths

I notice elderly people a lot. Maybe it's because I've passed the mid-century mark and know I am moving into the later stages of life or maybe it is because my children have moved out of the house; whatever the reason, elderly people catch my eye. Sometimes they are shrunk within a wheelchair being shuttled by a caregiver in white uniform through a grocery store. Sometimes they are vibrant and laughing and getting a Starbucks coffee in front of me. Sometimes they are dying and the subject of attention of my friends or colleagues as their loved ones' lives slip away. Sometimes they are walking arm in arm in my neighborhood 'for exercise' or on holiday 'for fun'. I saw Jack LaLanne on television recently celebrating his 95th birthday with 95 push-ups and 95 sit-ups. Sometimes they are sitting alone in a nursing home, sad and suffering, just 'ready to go'.

When I see the elderly I often think about them as children, adolescents, mothers and fathers, business leaders, artists, persons with youthful skin, vibrant laughter and a hunger for life. Then I see them falling into categories - happy and curious, content and blissful, comfortable, struggling, frightened, angry and grasping. While physical discomfort, illness, memory loss, and other ailments affect their outlook, most of all I notice that their attitude toward life seems to shape how they move toward death.

It is as if there are two orientations of attitude that can be described by a metaphor of a funnel. One view in life is looking through the funnel from the narrow side out - this group of elderly seems to share an expansion of view as they age - an openness, a widening of thought, an increasing curiosity. They appreciate life and are curious to see patterns, connect dots of their experiences with that of others across the landscape of life's experiences. The other group of elderly seem to view life through the other end of the funnel, instead of expanding with age - they seem to contract, to narrow their view, to become more and more focused on a self-oriented view of things, with diminishing curiosity. They become less interested in the world and more focused on what is affecting them.

It is an interesting dichotomy - one group seems to open with age, the other seems to close. With openness, it seems that death is much less frightening as if it is merely another viewpoint of sorts. With the closing of view, death looms large. I think it is analogous to a landscape painting. If the landscape is vast, one tree is but a blip on the horizon; if the landscape is narrow a single tree can consume the canvas.

Perhaps wisdom is the exuberance of youth seen through the widening lens of age, a broad, open perspective on the landscape of life. When one opens with age, exuberance arises because discovery abounds. This discovery requires no movement of sorts, it unfolds from within, from an endless expanse of curiosity and novelty in everyday experiences.

In death approached from this stance of wisdom, fear of the unknown seems to have little space to grow.

Comments

[Tibibosh]

My dad is 77 and had two valves replaced in his heart in March. He had to stay in the hospital for a month due to a platelet issue but was feeling well. He was so disgusted that he couldn't leave. He had things to do and places to go. It was the beginning of the car show season and he was anxious to get out his old Model A's and drive them around and go out to eat with his wife (wife #2) and with large group of friends. He always has a funny story and two years ago he drove to from Illinois to the Northwest to follow the Louis and Clark Trail, just for fun.

My mom on the the other hand is 78 and stays in her house all the time. She has no friends (never had many during her life come to think of it) and waits for her children to visit her. She doesn't want to go out and go shopping for fun or eat lunch out. She is skeptical of everything new, especially technology and always talks about life in the past. She keeps her house thermostat at 55 in the winter and hardly spends a penny unless it's for food. She is scared to death of getting the swine flu and uses that as an excuse to not leave her house.

I plan to live life like my dad.

[KIVPossum]

Both of my folks embraced life until the end. They worked into their 80s, but managed to take time to do the things they couldn't do raising kids.

Dad finished a project and accept another only an hour before he died taking care of his flower garden.

Mom put in her short daily shift, stopped by the beauty shop, and had time to drink a glass of wine with me and a friend shortly before she died reading a book in her favorite spot in the garden.

I hope am able to enjoy life as they did if I manage their longevity, and hope when I go it is quick, easy and painless as it was for them.

[Anne Naylor - Huffpost Blogger]

I am observing the approaching death of my parents - of course, for all I know, they might live for another 10 years. However, my father is the one at 90 who is curious, reaching out to people around him, taking pleasure wherever it is, accepting when he needs to let go of doing some things and needing some help, running their apartment much like he might have commanded a ship. He was in the Royal Navy.

My mother at 87 on the other hand appears to be pulling back from life. Withdrawing into herself, not really willing to be very social other than with a couple of close friends and family. I read a very helpful article by a hospice nurse, Denys Cope, who wrote about the process of dying. My mother suffered from depression. My sense is that she is on some level coming to terms with those painful experiences as she prepares to "pass over".

In my middle age, I am conscious of the value of maintaining an open attitude and being expansive towards life. I hope I have the courage to age disgracefully, becoming truer to myself and enjoying more than ever before the latter half of this journey.

[boredwell]

The funnel metaphor can also be applied to people in all age groups. Once formulated, whether by nurture or nature, our idiosyncratic POVs remain with us for life.

[simplelivingmama]

When it comes to the time of dying, I just want to add that seeing my parents both die was hard but one was so much harder than the other. Mom died in hospital with bright lights, strangers, tubes and no hair despite the fact that they told her she was going to die in three weeks time. There was no need to give her Chemo.

Dad died the hospice route. Around family, in his son's home, pain was managed with sensitivity. Enough so he was lucid enough to say his goodbyes to all of us and at moments was even able to chat and laugh. What a difference! I know which way I will be leaving this earth.

[Veronica]

"When I see the elderly I often think about them as children, adolescents, mothers and fathers, business leaders, artists, persons with youthful skin, vibrant laughter and a hunger for life."

You have perfectly articulated the thing that I find so profound about aging and dying. Something about the passing of time on individuals just slays me -- I usually can't stand sappy movies, but ones that deal with aging and lost youth, like The Notebook, turn me into a blubbering fool even as I realize it's not really that great of a movie. The sentiment behind it is what affects me.

[Maya68]

At 41, I am yet to face the loss of loved ones. My prayer for them, myself, all of us is that death comes peacefully to them and even more so that death is accepted peacefully as a natural end to a well-lived life. Maybe, born a Hindu and used to the belief that this life is just one of many, helps to see life and death differently? In this aspect, I have often wondered,why those who believe that life after death will be in heaven/with God/Paradise often fight so hard to live?
I don't recall who said that life consists of holding two opposing maxims in tandem,set your life as if you'll live forever but live today as if it's your last.

[ArdentV]

I am going to be 74, my wife is turning 69. I don't feel old but she does. While we are both active physically and mentally, I have difficulty understanding her attitude. I take my cue from, I believe, Oliver Wendall Holmes who is credited with saying at age 88 (and having just looked at a young woman walking near his office) "Oh, to be 80 again." I like myself more now than 20 or 30 years ago. Am I fooling myself? Cheers, everyone

[CR46]

:) my Dad is 87 and is the "youngest" person I know, active, involved, never complains just enjoys life. Here's to many more happy "young" years to you!

[khanti]

When we are born, we will start to age every moment. In between we are subjected to sickness and finally time is taken from us and we die. For some death comes early. This is the Universal law and every living thing is subjected to this law. The change is inevitable. Impermanence will eventually cause suffering. This is the First law of Suffering taught by the Buddha. Not through speculation but through direct knowledge of the Universal Laws.
We never want to be in touch with reality especially when we are young, full of zest and energy. But this is a reality we have to face. We have to accept change; to live around it and not fight it. We learn to fly around gravity but we cannot defy it. Something we learn to let go and grow old gracefully. When we are young we must treat elders with respect and talk to them more. Old people are not a burden on our wings there are the reason why we exist. Peace.

[Susan Smalley, Ph.D. - Huffpost Blogger]

i particularly liked your last line!
thanks

[ggirl]

My dad passed away in 2004 after 7 long years of suffering from cancer. He did not want to die and I was happy that he went into a coma and it was so much easier for me to deal with. He did not sleep and wanted me with him most of the time and I made sure I had the time off from my job. They promised me if I helped them they would help me when I needed them. My father passed away and I thought I was prepared. I wasn't. I was with him when he passed away on February l4 at 4:47 am on Valentine's day. It hit me hard, real hard and I hate that day even now. I wasn't ready or prepared. Two years later my mother just wanted to stop living becasue my father was not around. She died on a friday afternoon December 8th and she wanted to go to be with my father. She hated even fighting for life even though I begged her to find a meaning for living but she had no mission. This hurt me because I felt she should have thought about her grandchildren too. She left this world and my brother told me she was very happy at the end. I want to believe that they are both together somewhere and at peace. I know I am because I did my very best for them while they were with me. God Bless1

[fcsakes]

I'm so sorry for your loss, your pain is keenly felt through your words.

[Susan Smalley, Ph.D. - Huffpost Blogger]

you can certainly feel the intensity of the love you have for them.....letting go of love - the physical, very real love we experience in relationships with our parents, siblings, and children - is perhaps the greatest challenge we humans ever face......yet, there is a vast universal love that we touch through these relationships and experience in the aftermath of the loss a loved ones....we notice that their love continues on in some way within us - you can certainly feel that love in how you speak of them and i'm guessing how you relate to your own children.....
plus, you discovered some deeper connection to yourself in how you cared for them - it's clear from your last line - "I know I am" that somehow through the process of letting go of your parents, you seem to have discovered a never-ending sort of love - for yourself, your brother and the world at large.....

[gardengranny]

A friend - just past 64 - recently told me that she looks forward to her death.

She is neither ill nor depressed; quite the opposite - her days are filled with activities and civic duties.

What she said was that she wants to know how it is going to feel.

My only question to her was this: what will she do with that knowledge?

Won't it be too late to tell me - or anyone else - about that experience?

[fcsakes]

Every person is on their own journey.

[Susan Smalley, Ph.D. - Huffpost Blogger]

it seems she is already sharing that knowledge with you as she moves through her own process of aging and dying.... ....even if she becomes forever silent at one moment, i'm guessing there will be some shared knowledge in that silence between you ....

[Arithrianos]

Fear or love, bliss or suffering, is always the choice isn't it? The choice is the same one a leaf gets in the fall, is it my death and a tragedy, or is it the continuation of the tree, and a celebration? Really the choice is always there to be made, but most never see it as a choice, they give away their power to respond to "external" circumstance because of primitive ideas about reality, and never see that while stuff happens, that has no power unless you give it that power. Death is very powerful way of seeing that choice, if seen as a loss to me, if i have been robbed of my possession, then suffering will arise, but on the other hand if the body who died contained only a temporary companion on the path, a fellow traveller to share to road for a time, and not my possesion at all, then there is gratitude and joy when parting, as Natalie M says we can't keep your magesty, be on your way.

[Susan Smalley, Ph.D. - Huffpost Blogger]

the idea of 'choice' in how we view things is so vital to humanity.....i just read a great book by Arnold Beisser, Fllying without wings.....
He was struck by polio (in the 1950s) and lived in an Iron Lung and as a quadriplegic for his life....yet, he discovered the secret of 'wellbeing' despite his 'disability'.....he wrote

"When a person sees those aspects of the world that are affirmative, those things he can do that are of value, he experiences a state of health. When on the other hand he views the world from the standpoint of what he cannot do, he is disabled regardless of his physical disability”

even in facing death, we have such choice....