Coming to terms with our mortality
Sometime in our 40s and 50s we begin to realize that we are mortal and going to die. In the natural order of things, our grandparents die, and then our parents, then our peers, and as each generation ages and dies, our generation takes a step forward and we realize that our turn is coming.
The idea of death, as we watch the prior generations do it, is no longer abstract. It is no longer something that happens to other people. Death when it comes to people we love and are attached to becomes personal. With these losses comes a grief, a sense of being bereft, because our lives will no longer be the same.
In twenty-first century America we do not tolerate grief well. It is something that at best is duly noted and then to be left behind as we get on with our lives. The problem is that grief doesn’t work that way. Grief has a life of its own and isn’t as easily disposed of as our society seems to think it should be, and so now we not only are grieving but ashamed of our grief and so we hide it and often suffer alone with sadness and fear not only that our continued grief will be exposed but that our turn is coming as well and in a death denying culture how is that expected transition to be managed?
The old slogan is to “take the bull by the horns” and “call a spade a spade” and as the Stoic philosophers say “memento mori” which is Latin for “remember you must die.” Memento Mori is a reminder of mortality that encourages people to live in the present moment and do what's right. It's intended to inspire people to live virtuously and appreciate life's treasures.
On my past birthday on 12/25/24 I turned 79. I had been studying the life expectancies for another article and found that in 2022 the life expectancy for a Caucasian male was 75. I thought to myself,”Holy crap, I’m 79, I'm four years beyond what would be expected. I’m living on borrowed time. Every day is an extra day for me. As Raymond Carver wrote in his great poem, Gravy, it’s all gravy from here on out.”
And so, at least for me, I am very aware that every day is a gift and that I should make the best use of it as I can. So I ask my Higher Power, “Am I on the right track? Help me discern what I should be doing and who I should further become.”
At this point, I want to have a good death. What does that look like? I want to die with peace of mind and a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment with few, if any, regrets. Ira Byock, a palliative care physician, wrote a great book in 2004 entitled, The Four Things That Matter The Most in which he states the four things that seem to matter most to people who are dying are “Please forgive me.” “I forgive you.” “Thank you.” “I love you.”
As we face our death the three biggest existential questions move from the background of our lives to the foreground: Why was I born? What has been the purpose of my life? What happens when I die?
The good death involves a life review - What have I learned? A sense of gratitude - What have I been blessed by? A sense of contribution - What has my life meant to myself and others? What is my legacy? What am I leaving behind? An honest appraisal of mistakes and regrets - What do I wish I had done differently if I had known more at the time? Leave taking - How can best say goodbye?
As we consider and reflect on our dying it is very helpful to have a trusted other to talk to about it. Our tendency is to withdraw and isolate because we need to conserve our energy and time for this self reflection, but it is good to have a “sounding board” and a person who might be called “an enlightened witness.” Dying might be best if we have non anxious support from somebody who can go with us to the departure gate and wish us “bon voyage.”
Editor’s note: This article is one of a series dealing with Growing Older Gracefully which usually appear on davidgmarkham.substack.com on Thursdays if not more often.