The Good Death
A few years back, my Gramma fell. She had been living in an independent living facility and doing really well, but after that fateful fall it all went downhill. At that point I had been working in Long Term Care for a good portion of my career. I knew falls like hers were a kiss of death. The next 5 months she was in and out of the hospital. Each time she grew weaker, which led to her having to move into the assisted living portion of the facility between hospital stays. She prided herself on her independence, and I think it truly helped her live as long as she did. (94 years!!!!) But there she was, in that assisted living room at the end. I am so thankful for that room, because it is where I spent her last full day on earth.
During her last hospital stay, we knew it was close to the end. She had been seeing relatives who passed away long ago like her sisters and my Grampa. Each time she seemed comforted, like she knew she was going home to them soon. Looking back, I wish I had asked more questions. It would have been amazing to better understand what she was experiencing in her final weeks. But I was focused on the physical world. She wasn’t eating and dropping weight. Every supplement under the SUN was on her hospital tray. As a dietitian I knew why: her body was shutting down. Her digestive tract couldn’t handle food anymore. In a way, this was a blessing. When your body does this, it is a protective measure, triggering a euphoric state where the individual doesn't feel pain or hunger.
With all that information swirling around in my head, I knew deep down it was her time. My mom, aunt and I were all taking turns sitting with her in the hospital. At some point I found myself alone with her. Squeezing her hand and holding her close, I told her she didn’t have to hold on anymore. I cried and cried, but my heart knew she needed to hear it. My Gramma was such a strong woman, fighting till the very end. Shortly after that she transferred back to the assisted living facility on Hospice. I cannot say enough positive things about Hospice. They were literal angels, visiting my Gramma and keeping her comfortable.
At the time, I was working for a Home Health Care Company and had spent time with patients who eventually passed away. Some were harder than others, but each one was a learning experience. I saw the ways in which people exit this world. Alone. Loved. Scared. Comfortable. In Pain. At home. In the hospital. It ran the gamut. Sometimes, we as staff would sign up for shifts to visit the individual bedside, so they didn’t have to be alone at the end. I was TERRIFIED at first. Even though I’ve always loved the spooky side of things, it's different when you're facing death like that, sitting bedside for hours. It changes your perspective.
The way we treat death and dying today is so disconnected, often making things worse. One glaring example is the Pandemic. Bodies piling up. Refrigerated trucks. Mass graves. It’s terrifying. The idea of people having to die alone, afraid, and in pain. COVID-19 has robbed people of their ability to say goodbye to their loved ones the way they would have liked. It breaks my heart to think of those who had to die without someone to hold their hand. Pretending death and suffering doesn't exist isn't magically making it go away. That mindset tends to make things harder to cope when the time comes.
As much as I miss my Gramma, I am so thankful I got to be with her on her last days on Earth. Before the thought of it would have made me nervous or wary, but it was exactly what you would imagine a “Good Death” to be. She was surrounded by her family, talking to her, holding her hand. We looked through old pictures and reminisced. Hugs. Kisses. She was at peace and comforted by those who loved her. I wouldn’t have traded it for anything in the world.
If you’re interested in learning more about the Death Positive Movement, please check out the Order of the Good Death. They advocate for things like Green Burials, End of Life Care, and Funeral Planning. Death is the great equalizer. It comes for us all. Pretending otherwise will just lead to more disappointment and heartbreak. Take the time to talk to your family. Find out their wishes. Help those you love plan the “Good Death” they deserve.
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