Carole,
First of all , I would like to thank you for starting this thread. I'm sure there are probably many who, like myself, have gained more than I am able to contribute to this discussion. It has always been my belief that the entire death process is made more bearable if it can be openly discussed , like any other part of life. Ideally, I think it would help if people were to make it a part of discussions with family and friends whether there is an immediate health crisis or not. We KNOW that we are ALL going to die, but none of us knows when or how.
In my personal experience with Mike and his battle with cancer, we never had "the" discussion. It was more of a gradual thing. From the very beginning of his recurrence (stage IV) , Mike was told he was terminal and we had to accept that. He was fighting in the hopes that he could become stable long enough for the proverbial "silver bullet".. that was our hope. In Mike's case, he became more spirtual. He spent a lot of time thinking and praying and he put his fate in God's hands. We made wills, and living will's together. It was through discussions of the living will that I knew how he perceived his death and what he wanted. The week before he died , he asked me to gather friends and family to come see him and to tell them "the end is near". It was hard. The night before he died , he sat up in his hospital bed and he told everyone " I'm not afraid to die.. he held up his index and middle fingers together as one and said " God and I are like that" .. he said " all I ask is that you take care of Sue". This was said to family in the room . It's hard to write about this now, but it gives me tremendous comfort to this day. My husband was one hell of a man.. so strong, so courageous, and so unselfish. It's as though he planned his last days and minutes . As he passed he mouthed "I love you "and squeezed the hands of my son and I.
Thanks, Carole. Death is a difficult subject , but being able to talk about it is important. Hope I didn't get too carried away. Tears here.
Love,
Sue