I just read @Thammenator’s “Exit Interview” with DignitySA, where she ponders some of the topics we often avoid talking about, from how we would hope to go to what music we would want played at the funeral.
Read the interview here:
How do you think about the end of your life? What would be the headline to your obituary? I’d love to know your thoughts on death and dying.
Mine would be “He tried”.
I actually talk about it often with my people. It’s not something anyone can avoid and in a time of grief, I think it’s good that everyone can relax and know that some choices were already made. I have a school book that I titled ‘if anything should happen to me’. My husband and kids know where it is and my sister is getting a copy. It has all my online spaces that need to be deleted, storage spaces that need to be emptied, my favourite songs and flowers, contact lists, and ideas for body disposal.
But all of that is very practical stuff for them, to help them grieve, remember, and move through the process. FOR ME: I hope it is peaceful and at home. Like most people, I hope I get to see my grandkids. I come from a family with longevity genes, but life doesn’t always give you what you expect.
Hi. For me the subject is actually not dark nor depressing.
I’ve been a Scientologist since I was born and an integral part of the philosophy is that life is not a once off crapshoot. It’s a dive from pure spirit into a mix of both worlds, spirit and matter. It’s a foray into the MEST [matter, energy, space and time] world with inquisitiveness and fervour. We mingle with the world, learn more about it and then take a break. That simple.
Death isn’t great because you’re losing friends and possessions but that’s it. For me it’s no different than when I emigrated the few times this life. Selling almost all my possessions and moving somewhere without my regular friends and family.
One makes new friends and gets new things, the only down side is that you normally forget about the older ones. It’s a bit like a hard reset on one’s computer. But it’s not a complete wipe, all the memories and experience are not gone, they’re, just a little buried. It takes a little bit of practice to get the hang of remembering them.
Something profound occurs with a person when they recognise this and know without any doubt that they’ve been alive before and hence will be again. The subject of mortality losses all its significance and life takes on a much freer aspect.
Anyway, I wrote a little article a few years back about my take on this in Substack if you’re curious. “You only live once.” Seriously?! - Jeremy Shell
Demystifying death should be a primary-school lesson.
Thanks for bringing the subject up
Cheers
Jeremy
In my opinion death is a part of life and if I love life then I love all of it - the dying part too and that’s how I would like my death to be, a celebration of a life lived to the full and if I am suffering from an incurable illness then I would like to be able to decide when I die.
Re my imminent demise as I hit 82. My health has been perfect until 2 months ago. When I still lived in Capetown a program on Cape Talk introduced me to UCT body donation. This I duly did. I had experienced a very disappointing church funeral for my brother in law. None of the family were au fait with church hymns or prayers. So rather a gathering under my favourite tree. And may the medical students benefit from my body.
Mine would be “I told them I wasn’t feeling well”.
Mine is “no good deed went unpunished”
I have had a good life. Time to go.
I recently confronted my mortality. Got the will sorted, and requested that one of my sons take care of my digital presence. And it was not a weird moment. That’s a bonus when you can have such talks before the inevitable. And I am in full agreement with the objectives of DignitySA. When checking out is unavoidable, and preferable to not checking out while enduring pain, discomfort, and lack of dignity, I’d like that option to be available.
My obituary? Let it start with, “He was different to the indifference of the universe.”
My one requirement, or rather ban, is Christian messaging, including but not limited to a pastor, praying for my “soul to be saved”, speaking of me in heaven and generally acting like pretentious church-goers. I find it rather strange that even those who did not subscribe to the Christian religion are subjected to a overwhelmingly Christian-coded burial. Instead I would like a lively wake, to which I arrive “late, in love and a little drunk” (Atticus)