Dad had a fall. The resulting injuries are horrific. The top of his femur smashed through his pelvis, shattering it. Picture a plate dropped onto a tile floor. That is my dad's pelvis. I've seen the images from the CAT scan, and they made me sick to my stomach. Doctors can do nothing to fix it.
Death does not discriminate and comes to all of us in one form or another. Make sure you are prepared by planning and saving for your funeral. This way you'll get the funeral you want and won't have to come back and haunt your kids or family. You'd rather rest in peace, right?
One of the greatest lessons in life is that everything is impermanent. All things come and go. We live in such a structured society, where everything is broken down into steps or organized in a rational way. But there is no rationalizing grief.
I also spent more than a decade in hospice care, where our care team sought to companion families, many like Kasem's, in finding sacred consonance in the midst of fear, pain, death, and grief, all inherently dissonant experiences.
I had personally never given any thought to interment costs even though I am in my eighties. I thought I was in pretty good health with some good years ahead. Then I was diagnosed with terminal cancer.
Tonight, my mother and my brother moved the bed out of her guest room. Tomorrow morning, a truck will deliver a hospital bed to take its place. And sometime after that, an ambulance with my father in tow will make the trek from the hospital to my mother's and father's home.
I find myself grappling more and more with the prospect of death. Mine, yours, his, hers, all of ours, in this land of over 50. To tell you the truth I should say, the land of late sixties, because that's where I am now.
Life is a series of deaths and rebirths. Death happens to our bodies every minute of every day yet; this process goes unnoticed because we are busy living life. Cells die. Skin dies. But the thought of the ultimate death stops us dead in our tracks.
There is another arena where 'armchair quarterbacks' also exist -- except this time, those who sit in the metaphorical armchairs have the ability and occasionally, the actual desire to wreak havoc, cause pain and outright destroy relationships.
Why don't we die the way we say we want to die? Because we say we want good deaths but act as if we won't die at all. Because lifesaving technologies have erased the line between saving a life and prolonging a dying.