Tags

It’s pretty easy for me to remember this version of Dad. (Those are furry underpants he received one Christmas!).
A question I come back to again and again is: What type of death is hardest on survivors? A loved one who goes through a long, drawn-out illness and eventually succumbs to death, or a loved one who dies suddenly and unexpectedly?
I’ve turned this question over in my own head countless times and I’ve debated it with friends. But this question came up spontaneously when I met with the Carlyle book club in Minneapolis this week. It stimulated great discussion; it was nice to hear from a lot of people all at once. As you might imagine, the consensus was split.
My dad died unexpectedly. It was a shock and the surprise of it had long-lasting ramifications which may have been mitigated had we been better “prepared” emotionally. But one thing is that I didn’t have to watch my dad suffer, at least for long. I saw his suffering for a brief moment and that was enough. He died of cancer, which usually involves a long, slow, painful death. I didn’t have to see my dad waste away. In my memory, he is the strong, strapping, big guy that he always was. That is hugely important to me.
On the flip side, an extended illness would have given me and the rest of my family time to say goodbye. What I wouldn’t give to have had that. But that would have come at the expense of having to see him become sicker and sicker.
I come from a family in which the unexpected deaths outnumber the long illnesses. Far too much heart disease exists in my extended family, and when someone has a heart attack it’s usually the fatal, massive kind. So I can’t speak from much experience in watching a loved one go through a long, terminal illness. Should I be grateful for that?
In short, there’s no “preferable” way to watch someone die. What do you think? If you had a choice, which one would you prefer to witness?
What makes for a good death? Big question. As is whar makes for a good life.
Marcy Westerling
http://livinglydying.com/
Those indeed are big questions! Life is full of big questions.
My dog just passed away before Christmas. I know he wasn’t ‘human’ but he was pretty darn close! He had suffered a spinal stroke back in June. After rehabilitation, he bounced back to his old self. Then, he started not eating, we thought it was just from him being a picky eater. Took him into the vet and found out that he had cancer. The cancer he had was lymphoma/leukemia which they said can pop up after an animal has bone trauma, like his stroke. He wasn’t given very long to live and made it about 3 more months after we found out. The night we took him to the vet his back quarters had stopped working and they vet said she would give him pain meds and keep him over night. He passed away at the vet that night. It was very sad but there was comfort in knowing that because he was sick, I got him a doggie birthday cake to celebrate his last birthday. Spent lots of times up late at night just sitting with him. I think that if he would have suddenly passed it would have been more traumatic. A person can think they are prepared dealing with a terminal cancer, but it is still really hard in the end.
Our beloved dog passed away last June. It’s so hard to watch a pet suffer because they are 100 percent reliant upon you to help them. I always knew that I would probably end up having to make the choice to put him down. I don’t hear of many dogs that died suddenly or in their sleep.
I think I was fortunate to have time with my dad before he passed. I lost my mom suddenly when I was 24, and it took years to come to terms with that experience. With dad I was told he was failing and that I could stay by him for as long as I wanted–in the nursing home. I did. Over the course of five days I stayed by his side and told him “I love you, dad!” many, many times. I held his hand and stroked his arm and talked into his good ear. The nursing staff kept him comfortable, clean and pain-free.
We watched his favorite old movies, and other family members came and went. I hope he knew we were there. I didn’t, above all, want him to die alone. He was always “there” for me. I wanted to be “there” for him. He was the family patriarch. In spite of all the hardships he endured, he only wanted little for himself and comfort and opportunity for all his extended family.
One thing, even though I knew he was dying, I couldn’t think ahead about the funeral or any of its planning. The funerals (he had two) were days I passed through. The eulogies I spoke came to me easily because I just verbalized what I felt; and I knew it would be the last time to do so. And most important were the hugs and caring messages from so many friends and even acquaintances who knew how close dad and I were, and continue to be in spirit. I was lucky.
It sounds like you were able to spend some precious time with your dad and to give back to him what he had given to you through the years. That is something to cherish.