Family
The Subject Older Women Should Be Discussing
The talk could teach us a lot about living.
Who would have thought that discussing a topic often avoided in polite conversation — death and mortality — would turn out to be life-affirming, freeing, peaceful and even joyful? Certainly not my 100-year-old mom, a bona fide death denier who never wants to discuss the topic, and that works well for her. While I respect her wishes, I’ve taken a different path by attending workshops on the subject.
Coincidentally, I started this exploration in January 2019, a little more than a year before COVID-19 made death a topic that caused painful awareness in all of us. I was 57 that year, and attended a meditation workshop three months before our world went into lockdown. It was on Buddhism’s Five Remembrances: I will grow old, get sick, die, lose those I love and inherit the consequences of my actions. The retreat was transformative and made me more curious about learning to make peace with death and, in doing so, embrace life more fully.
I’m not alone in facing a subject most people prefer to avoid. That’s the case for participants in Death Cafés, which started in the United Kingdom in 2011. The goal is to "increase awareness of death, with a view to helping us make the most of our (finite) lives."
Since then, more than 23,000 Death Cafés have been held in 96 countries. In April, I attended an online Death Café hosted by AARP’s Senior Planet and was moved by the diverse experiences of the participants.
I met Jill Carel, 72, who said that attending has helped her clarify her current goals: maintaining friendships and healing old wounds.
“I’m 72. If I can’t clear up grievances with my parents from the past, I lose out on the opportunity to feel whole and healthy and full of love and without regrets,” she said. The group has also given Carel practical tools to support friends with dementia and helped her discuss her will with her son.
Bre Clark, 34, leads the online Death Café that Carel and I attended. Clark is a certified death doula, an individual who offers non-medical support to those preparing for end-of-life, including bereavement care, resources and respite for caregivers.
The group meets every two weeks, with nearly 100 participants attending. One of the benefits Clark often hears participants mention is the relief they feel from talking with strangers. Several have said their children don’t want to discuss it, but the café provides a safe space to talk about difficult topics.
“Not everyone has only positive, full-of-love interactions with those who died,” explained Clark. “There could be unresolved conflicts, people who died from addiction, people who took their own lives.”
While participants discuss strained relationships that can worsen after a family member’s death, Clark added that “for every story like that, I hear stories of the families that rally around each other.”
In fact, there is a range of emotions. “When we avoid grief, we avoid the joy and laughter too,” she added.
People joke about their loved ones haunting them, and they honor those people by talking about them and sharing their stories. I’ve certainly found this to be the case. My sister and I have raucous laughs, recalling the dark humor of our deceased father.
There is space for everyone involved in organized conversations about death. I’m guessing there might even be a few deniers, like my mom, who attend out of curiosity. By the way, while my mom doesn’t like to dwell on the topic, she does let me tease her about her avoidance of it.
Clark said some people attend nearly every session, while others drop in occasionally. There are very vocal members who often share, while others rarely speak. Clark noted that the quieter participants bring an essential presence. “Their cameras are on … and they react. Clearly, someone who keeps coming back is getting something from it.”
Topics include the loss of deceased spouses, anticipatory grief when a loved one receives a diagnosis, the loss of beloved pets and the fear of dying at home alone, without anyone knowing. People also discuss logistical matters related to end-of-life planning.
Participants have been motivated to take actions they had previously postponed or not considered. “People have reported that they’ve done advance directives,” Clark said — legal documents outlining your wishes if you're unable to make decisions for yourself. “One participant is really candid about how he and his wife are having more and more discussions,” including how they feel about the other remarrying and being a caretaker. “Some have written their own obituaries, which allows them to reflect on how they’ll be remembered,” said Clark.
Clark emphasized that an essential step is creating an advance directive. This requires having honest conversations with family and friends. The main goal of this process is to bring peace of mind. I’ve had these talks, filled out the forms and found it liberating. A guide for preparing an advance directive is available at Compassion & Choices.
Contemplating our mortality often means taking a closer look at the choices we are making today in our lives. This has prompted participants to pursue long-held dreams. My engagement with these questions has inspired me to travel more in order to visit family, volunteer at an animal shelter and finish my first book.
I never expected to find myself encouraging others to accept the reality that everyone has an end date, but my positive experiences motivated me to do so. I've embraced my role as someone who promotes these essential, life-affirming conversations. I hope you will, too.
Numerous resources offer support and guidance for conversations about death and dying, including online courses and writings by Dr. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, one of the pioneers of the hospice movement.
What do you think of the above? Do you ever have conversations about death? Let us know in the comments below.
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