Columnists

When I Die, Please Do Something

Issue 40.16

The following article by Linda Stuart helps answer a question I often hear.

In her dresser drawer, they discovered a hand-written note that read, “When I die, please do nothing.”  She had just taken her last breath.   And so became the distressing dilemma face by many families: honoring their loved one’s request to do nothing or honoring their own desire to do something to mark their loved one’s life.

Anguished, my childhood school friend called me in a panic.  “How can I do nothing?”  She asked.  For Judy, doing nothing was the equivalent of sending out a loud and clear message that her mother didn’t matter, that her mother wasn’t special, that her mother’s life was forgettable and not important.

I asked Judy to imagine that her mother was still alive. Could she have a conversation with her mother now, knowing her final wish of “nothing”?  I encouraged Jude to imagine telling her mother why it was so important that she be given the opportunity to say goodbye, to receive support, to publicly declare her love and take the first of many steps toward healing her broken heart.  Judy needed that important space to help her accept the harsh reality that she was now motherless.

Then I asked: “What would your mother say in response?”   Judy told me that her mother, first and foremost, always put their daughter’s well-being and happiness before anything else.  She told me that her mother realized that she was robbing her loved ones of the opportunity to start the grieving and healing process.

Some people feel guilty when they’re made a fuss of.  “I’m nothing special,” they think.  “My family should spend their time and money doing something fun instead of crying over me.”

But your funeral is not a gift your give to yourself.  Your funeral is a gift you give to those who love you.  It is a gift you give to those who wake every morning and ache with the realization that your arms will never wrap around them again.  It is a gift you give to those you love.

Judy’s family found a compromise: They hosted a visitation and as a result, they received real hugs, not the virtual kind via Facebook.  Friends and family gathered to remember support and collectively grieve.  Judy, along with her father and sister, listened to stories they never heard and came to really comprehend the impact that their mother and wife had had on others.

The experience was so healing that Judy’s father, who also had a “do nothing” request, changed his mind.

Have you preplanned your funeral, or written your wishes down or expressed them to your family.   Even offering suggestions for services while allowing your family space or wiggle room, will help them move though the stages of their personal grief.

I want them to make a fuss  – not out of some ego-driven need to be the center of attention but because I know from my years of working with the grieving that a fuss is what’s necessary when we lose a loved one.   I want my family to feel and hug and connect.  I want an uplifting ceremony overflowing with tears and laughter and with confirming spiritual encouragement.  I want them to look at me one last time as they simultaneously say goodbye and hello to their new life without me in it.

When I die, I want them to do something. Perhaps our final wishes should be based on what your family needs, as a gift to them.

Ron Metcalf can be contacted at 435-673-4221.

 

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