Dignity in Death

In "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull", there is a line of dialog, something like "we've reached the age were life starts taking things away". Myself and my peers seem to have reached that age as well.

Late in February, I lost my step-dad. My mom and I were in the hospital room with him when he passed, and it was mostly peaceful. (HERE if curious.)

Several weeks ago, my former Pastor lost his wife after a lifetime of pain and illness. Nancy still managed to be an inspiration to those around her for many many years.

Last week my half-sister lost her step-dad. He had been in a coma, and the decision was made to remove support.

Today I learned that my friend's mother is on a BiPAP, and has difficulty breathing without it. The prognosis is not good, and she may never leave the hospital, or she may return home for hospice care.

As painful as it is, death is an important part of life. Since being in India, I have come to some realizations about our western culture, especially our attitudes towards death and our own mortality.

Until relatively recently, people died where they lived - at home. Viewings (showings for my Midwestern friends) would be held at home, in the fanciest room of the home - the Parlor. Death was a common occurrence, common enough that children would probably see a dead body well before their teens.

In 1918, the "Great Influenza Pandemic" hit. 50 - 100 Million people died (3% to 6% of the world's population), including 500,000 to 675,000 in the US (.5%). Parlors became a place filled with the dead awaiting their funerals. The front room began to be referred to as "The Death Room."

When the pandemic passed, the Ladies Home Journal suggested that the room be renamed to "Living Room". The name stuck. Attitudes began to change about funerals, and viewings were shifted to "Funeral Parlors", away from homes.

Perhaps because death is not in familiar surroundings, it has become very frightening, instead of the natural event that it is. I believe this sterilization of the normal process creates undo fear in people. Granted, some people pass on more peacefully than others. But everyone deserves the comfort and support their family can provide, both to the deceased and for those mourning.

In India, most deaths occur at home. I have never seen a funeral home. I don't believe there is such a thing. Hindu custom is that the body is cremated on a funeral pyre as soon as the eldest son can arrive to light it. (Sati, the practice of the wife throwing herself on the funeral pyre, is rare and forbidden by law since 1829.) The body is transferred from the home to the place of immolation with flowers and mourners (and, now days, on a open three-wheeled truck). The body is consumed by the fire, the ashes are scattered on a river, and the mourners walk away without looking back.

I don't know what should be, and every person and family has a different idea of what is best for them. I have tried to share with my children the difference between a person and their body. The body WILL die. The person WILL live.

There is an old bumper sticker - "When I die, I want to go like my grandfather did, peacefully in his sleep - not screaming like the passengers in his car." We all want to go peacefully. And what better way to have peace than surrounded by caring loved ones?