I spent my summer vacation planning my funeral.
I guess that seems odd. As far as I know, I am not dying. I recently celebrated my 48th birthday. With the exception of a bad case of reflux (exacerbated by my addiction to Diet Coke), and a few aches and pains in various joints, I seem to be in remarkably good health.
But I have been thinking a lot about death lately.
Maybe it is because so many people I have cared about have died in the last few years. My regular readers know about the death of my friend Terri-Lynn two years ago—a death that left a big hole in my heart. Her death still enrages me and fuels my political activism for universal healthcare.
But there are others. There was Maria—the first of my Invisible Friends to die. She was posting and e-mailing me one day—and then she was gone, at age 45, from lupus. There was Kate (age 55), Lisa (age 50), Kathy (age 49), and Sharon (age 47)—all dead from cancer, between October 2007 and March 2010. There was Roseann (age 56), who died of kidney failure. And, of course, there is Kirstin (age 40), who died July 1 of metastatic melanoma, and Goran (age 57) who died on July 29 of prostate cancer.
In the midst of life, we are in death….
If the actuarial tables are accurate—and my family history is any guide—I have many more years left on this planet. But life is uncertain…and I travel a lot. For the past couple of years, I’ve had this nagging feeling that I should plan for my death.
So that’s what I did.
Dear Friend and I made wills and signed advance directives and Powers of Attorney for healthcare and business before we got married—so we had already taken care of those things.
It was the stuff I knew would be problematic in the wake of some kind of unexpected or traumatic death that worried me. Would my family know how to cash in my life insurance policy? Would they know where all the bank accounts were located? What about the credit cards? What would happen with my blog and my Facebook page if I died?
There will be surprises if I die suddenly—no one can foresee all the issues. But my family now has a complete list of accounts, contact numbers, and instructions about what they need to do in the aftermath. I’ve even set out a basic set of instructions about the funeral—I felt an irrational desire to ensure that no one would decide to include liturgical dance [shudder] as a final practical joke on me…
All in all, it was a cathartic experience—not sad or depressing at all. I highly recommend that you do it yourself.
9 comments:
We should all do what you've done, Doxy. I've thought about my blog, too. I'm not sure anyone in my family could handle what would need to be done. I should give my Blogger password and instructions to a couple of online friends, who would be in phone contact with my family.
I remember the troll messages and ads that came through on her blog after Roseann died, because her husband did not have the password.
It's funny you mention FB and your blog. I had never thought of anything of this nature until my aunt passed in January this year. Her FB page is still going. Her friends still visit her Farmville account and tend to her virtual crops and animals. It's so strange...I click on it sometimes when I miss her. Then I feel weird and voyeuristic in some manner, as if I am somewhere I shouldn't be.
I just purchased my burial policy and one for my son. We put together a list of what to do in sequence upon death for my mother, me and my son back in June. I had struggled findng insurance info, making arrangements, getting into the safe deposit box, etc. when my aunt died. I did not want to have to do it again or leave my son to have to go through that struggle, either. It is a peace of mind... as if, ok, when it's time, it's alright because the work is done and all is prepared.
Mimi--I still get occasional spam from Roseann's blog and from Grendel's too. It makes me sad....
My instructions about the blog are to leave it up but to close it to all comments. Some of the best writing I've ever done is here, and I like to think someone (my children, maybe?) would continue to get something out of it when I'm gone.
After reading this article at Episcopal Cafe, I have left instructions for Dear Friend to use my Facebook page to notify people, and leave it up for a little while--but then to delete it.
Sea Shellis--I have watched the very scenario you describe more than once. I was determined not to let that happen--and not to stress Dear Friend or my family any more than they already would be.
I didn't mention in the post that I also read Joan Didion's book, The Year of Magical Thinking, while I was doing this little project. Very poignant and another reminder of why this is so important.
While we have done a lot of that, we have not done all of it and I have the blog/FB thing to keep in mind and add to the list.
And yes - the blogs of those who have passed that get spammy and the FB pages. I have a HS friend who died 3 years ago and I still get reminders of his birthday. So sad.
Teary-eyed here, but yes, this is "meet and right and so to do."
You're a year younger than me, but ages more mature. I just don't feel like I have a life whose end to plan, y'know?
I think I've taken care of most of this stuff and review it annually with my family. I never thought of the blog though. Hmmmmm.
I recently had a similar discussion with someone but the question was - if you were to die suddenly and someone went through your stuff, what would you be embarrassed by?
You're a year younger than me, but ages more mature. I just don't feel like I have a life whose end to plan, y'know?
JCF--I've got a very complicated life and I've got kids. I seriously doubt that I'm more "mature" than you are--I just have more "baggage"! ;-)
As for not having "a life whose end to plan"--there are a lot of people who would want to know if something happened to you. I can remember several times over the last few years when I've seen someone post "Has anyone heard from JCF?"
I recently had a similar discussion with someone but the question was - if you were to die suddenly and someone went through your stuff, what would you be embarrassed by?
8thday--oohhh!! I hadn't thought of that! Although it does beg the question of whether you would REALLY care about that once you are dead... ;-)
klady--hugs to you, friend. I think of you more often than you can imagine....
Sea Shellis--I meant to comment on this:
I click on it sometimes when I miss her. Then I feel weird and voyeuristic in some manner, as if I am somewhere I shouldn't be.
FWIW, I don't think that's weird at all. I think it's very natural to want to keep some kind of connection to those we've loved and lost. If it brings comfort, why not?
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