Recently, my sister-in-law died. Way too early and way too fast. Pancreatic cancer was the precursor, cutting this vibrant and impactful woman short in life at the age of 47.
These events, where the suffering is big and on a large scale, creep under your skin.
I have had more difficulty coping with death and dying than ever before. Even more than the death of my soul family friend just over a year ago. Or maybe because of it.
With my friend, I was privileged to help her process, witnessing life flowing through her until her last breath. An experience that changed my life, changed my view on life. (Something I will start to write about more often.)
But it was not my place to have this kind of goodbye with my sister-in-law. And as much as I know, this is for me to accept, I’m struggling.
Without going into details or starting to blame, I can see that, in general, the way people die or are dying affects the way the people who are left behind handle their bereavement.
In a death-phobic society (when do we ever talk freely about death?), we barely know what to say or how to act when confronted by even a glimpse of dying. Yet, we cognitively know that life is going to end for us all… but just not for us, right?
Even the announcement of a terminal illness makes us contract our whole being immediately. It seems that so much as speaking about death or dying will provoke our own end of life more rapidly. Casting a spell for imminency?
I don’t agree on that.
I feel it’s very healthy and even essential to talk openly about death, or even the dead. Without shaming ourselves to reflect on the behaviour of those who passed before us. Behaviour that has brought you more sorrow than might have been necessary. Maybe things that happened were well-intended, or impossible to change for the dying person, though had a heart-shaking impact.
In my opinion, there is much to gain from ending this collective silence.
This is why I have been educating myself last year about helping in this field professionally, resulting in a certificate of ‘End-of-Life Doula’ in my name. Because dying is like a birth, which needs preparation, guidance, and a continuous presence of love and attention. Even after the passing.
As ‘dying well’ will benefit all.