What's Your Favorite Quote about Death?

Here are a couple of mine:

"Death is more universal than life; everyone dies but not everyone lives." - A. Sachs

"Life is eternal, and love is immortal and death is only a horizon, and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight."
- Rossiter Worthington Raymond 1840-1918

Decay

A few days ago, I wrote about a little lamb who died in my arms. But I didn't finish the story.

After the lamb died, one of my fellow farmhands suggested we place its body in the empty corncrib and watch the decay process as a learning experience. Every morning, each of us would make a quiet, solo trip over to the corncrib to check on what was left of the little lamb. Flies quickly laid eggs and maggots quickly devoured the flesh. By the end of the week, a few tufts of soft white wool were still left around the raw bones.

Ever since that experience, I have been fairly certain that I want to be cremated. I know that being eaten by maggots is a natural process, the natural order of things, but somehow I have never truly come to terms with it.

Perhaps if I came to a place where I had more appreciation for the beauty of bacteria, that might help as well. Unlike out in the open air of the farm, my body is far less likely to encounter flies upon its demise.

Of course, I am very thankful for the bacteria in my gut that help me digest food and ensure that I absorb vitamin K and some of the B vitamins. And as a woman, I am certainly grateful to the acidophilus bacteria in yogurt that keep yeast flora at bay. In addition, new research suggests that lactobacillus bacteria may help fight the flu.

So I guess I could look at the inevitable decay of my body as a thanksgiving feast to the bacteria that make my life possible.

Do You Believe in Ghosts?

There are so many movie and television depictions of ghosts - from celluloid images of Whoopie Goldberg becoming possessed by a dead white man to "Crossing Over" and Sylvia Browne's numerous appearances on talk shows. But are ghosts real? What do you think?

Six Feet Under Addict

Hello. My name is Mia. And I'm a "Six Feet Under" addict. I admit it. Though I guess it's no surprise that I would love that show. I'm not the type to ever go so far with a television program as to read magazine articles or even puruse websites or chatrooms. But I am addicted to the degree that I could ever be addicted to a tv program.

Okay, the things I love about Six Feet Under:

-the show normalizes death publicly
-the show finds humor around death and dying
-the characters can be a bit profound at times, yet they're never dry nor dull

I would love for my blog to be all of that at once. But that is a very distant and difficult goal to aspire to. So in the meantime, I will keep renting the latest episode of Six Feet Under on DVD.

Why Am I Here?

This is a question many people wait until they know they are dying before they consider. But many of the tasks of dying, including this one, can help us make our lives more meaningful on an every day basis.

Some of the questions that help people find meaning in their life:

- What "one noble act" that I have done brings a sense of fulfillment to my life?
- What has this life been all about?
- What have I learned in my life?
- What have I done with my life?
- What have I given to others and what have I received from others?
- Have I live according to my beliefs and priorities?
- What are my priorities now?
- What have been my most cherished moments in this life so far -- when I brought dignity upon myself, when I took a stand, when I experienced love, when I opened myself to others and to the world?

What brings meaning to your life?

The Four Things

I really need to create a list of links on this page. There are so many excellent resources out there for supporting people and families through end of life. And so many of them include tips that we could all use in our daily lives. For instance, this one: The Four Things That Matter Most

This site is based on a book by Ira Byock, MD. I haven't read the book, but have definitely heard references to these four phrases before. In hospice work, when not referencing the four tasks of living and dying, these four phrases are often referred to:

1. Please forgive me.
2. I forgive you.
3. Thank you.
4. I love you.

The phrases kind of overlap with the four tasks (which include forgiveness and acknowledging successes).

"Even as people confront death (their own or others'), they can reach out to express love, gratitude and forgiveness. When they do, they consistently find that they - and everyone involved - are transformed for the rest of their life, whether those lives last for decades or just days."

Suckling not Suffering

My friend Cat and I worked together on a sheep farm one summer during college. She was visiting this evening after not having seen each other in over ten years, so I pulled out my old photo album from our days together on the farm. As we flipped through pages of photos, one image jumped out at me.

I was sitting on the grass with a small lamb, holding a bottle of milk to his mouth, my other hand gently cupping his chin. If you have never seen a lamb live, you'll just have to believe me; they are incredibly adorable creatures. They are like walking stuffed animals, following their mothers in pairs or alone. Their soft fuzzy furr much brighter white than their mother's. They have long fuzzy tails and little parts on either side of their head where their horns will grow in. And they make the sweetest sounds. Instead of calling out "Baaahh" like their mothers, they call out a higher pitched, child-like "Maaahh."

This lamb's mother, however, had rejected him after birth. Several hours had passed before we'd found him laying down out in the pasture. Lambs must be fed within the first few hours after being born. Without his mother's milk to sustain him, he was barely holding onto life.

I cradled the lamb over my right thigh and talked sweetly to him, trying to encourage him to suckle from the bottle. He made a few half-hearted attempts to reach out for sustenance. But then he stopped. We had found him too late. He died in my arms.

We stopped to pause at the photo and recalled the events around it. Cat smiled sweetly and said, "That was your first experience caring for a life as it left this world."

I've often thought that my time on the sheep farm opened me to considering working in a medical profession. (We also gave injections and attended to wounds). But it wasn't until Cat said that that I realized how deeply those experiences had changed me.

Comforting that lamb as he struggled between staying in this world and leaving it left me with a sweet sorrow. I was mournful that I had not been able to save him. But despite being rejected by his mother, I hoped that the lamb was able to leave this world feeling cared for and surrounded in love.