I am traveling this week, seeing old friends and driving around Southern California, and having plenty of conversations about dying. Dying wishes, thoughts of loved ones already gone, and regrets about actions not taken and things not said. My friends and acquaintances each have their personal decisions they want to make and they expressed thoughts about their experiences with the passing of a loved one. ‘I should have stayed that extra day’. What did my loved one want me to do with her favorite ring? Did she want to wear it or hand it down?’. ‘When my uncle told me his end of life choices, I thought he shared them with his children as well. To my surprise, apparently I was the only person he told’. And the stories continued.
I wish I could record all of these conversations. Wait: I can! I have a cellphone! I don’t need my microphone, headphones and computer. Heck, I have pen and paper! Now, these discussions I had on this trip were personal, and I did not come to visit in order to record their thoughts. What I came for was bonding and reflection on years of friendship. However, I realized that perhaps I am someone who can help with taking down the information they want to share with others. And, once I get a thought I pretty much work to see it through. In my mind as I type this today I am considering who I can contact once I return home and offer to record them saying their thoughts again, only this time have me record it so I have it saved for them, convert them to a small digital file, and send it to them. How they use it or share it is up to them. At least the words were said and recorded for them. Not for publishing, but for them.
I have had countless conversations such as these. How many stuck in my head? Not many. Mostly small memory glimpses that pop in and out of my brain. I am immersed in the dying and death conversation. I can’t believe having these conversations has become my passion. Helping others share their thoughts, misses, victories, beautiful sweet memories, has become so important to me! I never thought I would say any of that. I do recall, when I began college, I pictured myself sitting with men in corduroy blazers, patches on the sleeves, leaning forward, our heads almost touching, sharing deep thoughts and tough topics. Here I am, I guess, 30-plus years after college, without the corduroy jacket or elbow patches.
When I began my podcast and this blog, I had ideas I wanted to share with you all, of course. I realize now how much more sacred the conversations I have with people have become, given that the trust between myself and my friends must remain sacred, not to be fodder for my next episode. It’s like a professional therapist who listens to her friends talk about this problem or that situation and realizes she has the ability to “psychoanalyze” or “treat” her friend but, ethically, she knows it’s a no-no. Imagine that same therapist using the discussions had with trusted friends to publish or further her own work or career goals. In my opinion, that would be a violation of trust.
When I was considering sharing what I have learned and continue to learn about dying and death, and whether I had enough topics for a podcast, it did not take long to realize that the topics are broad and plentiful. I am rarely at a loss for an episode topic. The more I dive into the end of life space the more information I take in and can share with you, my audience. Honestly, being a Death Café host was the beginning for me. What I realized from that experience is that I wanted to reach a larger audience, and podcasting fits that bill, as does this blog site. I get excited when I learn something new or have an interesting experience, knowing that I can pass along the knowledge to you all. I am not alone in this, however, which is all the more encouraging. You see, as our healthcare system continues to medicalize death, more and more professionals see the need for our population to be educated, as our ancestors were, in how people die and how to care for the dying. Ultimately, the goal is to reduce the fear of death and to embrace the beauty of the life cycle and the sacred space of sitting vigil with a loved one. I have had the honor of holding my mother’s hand as she died. I saw my dad’s last few hours, and while I was not at the bedside when he died, I had some sacred time with him as well. Even my father in-law, cranky old guff that he was, shared some special moments with me at the end of his life. We had some tense moments but they were diminished by the powerful questions he would ask me, and when he shared some of his deepest fears, I saw a vulnerability I had no idea existed in him. What a gift it was to see a man, strong-willed as he was but also gentle in other ways. I carry these moments with me because they are precious.
I didn’t know back then that I could have offered to record stories to share with other family members. Now that I do, I wonder if my loved ones would be interested in my doing this for them. What do you think? Do you have thoughts and feelings you feel are too important to keep to yourself and take to your grave? Would you want an objective, impartial listener to record them for you? Consider it. Then, send a comment to my email. Perhaps it’s more popular an idea than I think.