Category: Preparing for Death

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Death is inevitable

— Why don’t we talk about it more?

Alua Arthur

Death is hard to talk about. But death doula Alua Arthur says if we want to live presently and die peacefully, we have to radically reshape our relationship with death.

 

About Alua Arthur

As a death doula, Alua Arthur help individuals and families to navigate the emotional, legal and spiritual issues that arise around death. Arthur worked as an attorney prior to entering the field of “death work.” Her organization, Going with Grace, educates fellow death doulas in nonmedical end-of-life care. Her forthcoming book, Briefly Perfectly Human, reframes how we think about dying.

Arthur was recently featured in the National Geographic television series Limitless, in which she helped actor Chris Hemsworth map out his own future death. She has been featured in the Los Angeles Times, Vogue, InStyle and more. She is a former director of the National End-of-Life Doula Alliance.

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What is a living funeral?

— This unique celebration of life and its benefits explained

Explore the concept of a living funeral and discover the profound meaning and benefits these celebrations can have for everyone involved.

By

If you’ve heard the term “living funeral” pop up as you’re planning end-of-life care for yourself or a loved one, you may very well wonder if you’ve stumbled on a typo. After all, the history of funeral practices in the United States and around the world customarily centers around the time after someone has died.

But no, you read that right. A living funeral — sometimes called a living wake or a pre-funeral — is a ceremony held for a person who is very much alive.

What is a living funeral all about? Why are loved ones opting to throw funerals for the living? Who are they for, and why have they grown in popularity? We asked experts to break down the practice of living funerals and to help you decide if this ritual is one that’s right for you or someone you love.

In its most simple form, a living funeral is a funeral held for a person who is still alive. They are usually performed for individuals who have been diagnosed with a terminal illness or who are advancing in age and coming to grips with their mortality and are typically held in the months, weeks or even days before someone’s death.

While the terminology may be unfamiliar to you, the living funeral concept is not new, says the Rev. George Handzo, director of health services research and quality for the national nonprofit HealthCare Chaplaincy Network. As a chaplain who works with people nearing the end of their life, Handzo says he’s often seen family members come together for a party of sorts to celebrate their loved one.

In some indigenous cultures, Handzo adds, it’s traditional for family members to gather near the end of a loved one’s life and engage in rituals, such as passing on family heirlooms, eating together and praying together as death nears. And the concept of a living funeral has long been practiced in countries like Japan, where the practice is called a seizensō or “funeral while alive.”

What’s the difference between a living funeral and a traditional funeral?

The core concept of a living funeral is the same as that of a traditional funeral — to offer a time and place for friends and family to gather together to honor a loved one. The primary difference between the two is whether or not the ceremony is held before or after the beloved person has died.

Often the tone of living funeral ceremonies is different from that of a traditional funeral as well, says Megan Sheldon, a ceremonialist and end-of-life doula from Vancouver, who’s also co-founder of Be Ceremonial, an app that guides you to create your own ceremonies, including a living funeral or living wake.

“People who come to us often want the event to feel lighthearted, relaxed and fun,” Sheldon explains. “They recognize the sadness and grief people are holding, and they want to focus on how [their loved one] lived their life and not how they are going to die”

What’s included in a living funeral?

The decision around when this sort of ceremony is held or even the shape it takes can differ greatly from person to person, says Willow Baum, an end-of-life planning educator and doula from Callicoon, New York.

“Every person and every circle of loved ones is incredibly unique,” Baum says. That’s why she starts planning by first getting to know the individual’s goals and values to help give shape to a living funeral that is right for them.

For example, an introvert may wish for a small ceremony where people come to visit them at home one at a time or in small groups while an extrovert may want to plan a large get-together with dozens of relatives and friends coming together all at once.

An added bonus to planning a living funeral over a traditional funeral is having the ability to actually ask the person you love what they want included in their ceremony, Baum says. While some people will create a funeral or memorial service plan before their death, asking for clarification on those plans is something that cannot be done when planning a funeral after someone’s death.

“You should really ask them. Don’t guess. Don’t assume,” Baum recommends for anyone who is helping a family member or friend with their end-of-life planning and discussing their final wishes. “This gives people a reason to get deeper with one another.”

While the exact structure and rites included in a living funeral depend on the wishes of the dying person, here are a few practices that might be included:

  • Candle lighting or bell ringing to open the ceremony.
  • Shared speeches from family or friends, similar to the eulogies that might be shared after someone has died.
  • Shared words and thoughts from the celebrated individual for those who have gathered.
  • An officiant who leads and guides attendees in prayer.
  • A video stream for family or friends who cannot attend.
  • Group storytelling and memory swapping among those who attend.
  • Music and food, chosen by the person being honored.
  • Allotted time for attendees to spend a private moment with the dying relative or friend.

Baum likes the way most of these living funerals unfold to a celebration of life held after someone has died. A living funeral, however, is heavily imbued with a reminder that “time is finite,” adds Baum.

What are the benefits of a living funeral?

A living funeral certainly isn’t something that everyone needs to add to their end-of-life planning, but there are myriad reasons why this sort of ceremony is one that families may consider.

Here are some of the many benefits that a living funeral can offer:

  • The opportunity for loved ones to say goodbye – After someone has died, Handzo often hears from friends and family,”‘I didn’t say I love you enough’?” When someone is diagnosed with a terminal illness, the living funeral gives loved ones the ability to do just that: gather to say the things often left unsaid. “We do far too little in our culture of saying goodbye and thinking of the dying person,” Handzo adds.
  • A means for the dying to play a role in the ceremony – The act of planning a living funeral can offer catharsis in and of itself, Baum says, allowing someone a chance to take control of their own end-of-life ceremony. For some, she says, it helps them work through their feelings about death and the unknown. For others, this simply provides a way to feel less out of control about the future.
  • A chance for the dying to impart last words – A living funeral gives someone who is dying the ability to speak with loved ones and friends who they might not otherwise get to see before their death, especially if time is short and separate visits for each person are too taxing. This could take the form of sharing words of wisdom with a grandchild, offering an apology to someone with whom they’ve had a falling out or simply sharing information.
  • A place to highlight positive memories – While the finite time remaining with their loved one may inspire a tinge of sadness, the storytelling element of a living funeral can be uplifting too, giving people a reason to laugh and smile. Sheldon helps families and friends to explore memories in positive ways by creating “memory walkways” with clients. “We hang photos from their lives down a path,” she explains, “and invite people to walk down listening to favorite music while they notice all of the photo memories and moments of significance.”
  • A space for families to come together – Simply providing people a place to come together is an added benefit, Handzo says. Busy family members can reconnect and reforge bonds that can provide needed moral support as individuals come to grips with their own feelings about their impending loss and possibly their own mortality.

Can anyone have a living funeral?

If the benefits of planning a living wake sound appealing, you may be wondering if you can start planning your own pre-funeral. Can just anyone have one? Well … technically … yes. But experts have some advice for helping you decide.

“Usually people know they are going to die within a few months and want to do it before they get too weak to appreciate the experience for what it is,” Sheldon says of most living funeral honorees.

That doesn’t mean you have to have a terminal illness, however.

“We’ve hosted living funerals for people who have no intention of dying anytime soon,” Sheldon adds, “but are doing this anyway, as a chance to bring their friends and family together one last time.”

Are there ethical considerations to living funerals?

Of course, there may be some cultural, emotional and sometimes moral considerations to contemplate before adding a living funeral ceremony to your calendar.

For one, the trend of living funerals represents a generational shift in Western cultures, Baum says, and it’s important to respect that older family members may not be comfortable with the idea. Instead of pushing a living funeral on a dying loved one, she stresses the importance of listening to their wishes and working together. Bringing in an end-of-life planner or death doula can be especially helpful as they bring not just their expertise but an outsider’s perspective during an emotional time.

Handzo also advises that people think deeply about their goals before planning a living funeral. For example, he notes, if you’ve had a deep rift with family members or friends and are hoping that these people will come to your pre-funeral to say nice things about you, it’s wise to reconsider.

“That’s not productive,” he warns.

Handzo also advises against trying to force family members to attend a living funeral simply because someone has finite time remaining before death.

In short, a living funeral should not be used to manipulate people, relationships or emotions.

Nor does Handzo recommend using a living funeral as a means to dissuade family and friends from gathering after you have died. “Sometimes,” he notes, “the family does want to do a funeral and go to the graveside.”

While the pre-funeral can benefit both the dying and the people who love them, a traditional funeral may still be an important part of the grieving process for those who have to say goodbye. There may also be cultural or religious traditions — such as the Jewish practice of sitting shiva for a loved one who has died — that people may still want to carry out after someone has died.

Should you plan a living funeral?

Deciding to have a living funeral is an incredibly personal decision, and if you’re considering suggesting the idea for a sick or dying loved one, you first may want to consult with an expert who can help you through the conversation. In particular, Sheldon warns that some people who have yet to accept their death may find talk of a living funeral triggering.

If you’re pondering whether or not this type of ceremony is right for yourself, Baum says it can be helpful to think about it not just in the context of your own wishes but also how it may affect those you are leaving behind. Just as writing out your wishes for what you would like to happen after you have died, planning out the time you have before your death can help loved ones better understand how to support you.

“To think about your own end,” she adds, “is to give the people who are going to do the wrapping up in the end a roadmap.”

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Spiritual care for hospice patients

— For patients in hospice, spiritual care plays an important role in offering comfort to them and their loved ones. Just like with physical or emotional pain, spiritual pain can cause hospice patients to have anxiety or concerns as they near the end of their lives. Thankfully, hospice chaplains are available to help patients and their families find spiritual healing and comfort.

What is a chaplain’s role?

A chaplain is a part of the hospice patient’s multi-disciplinary care team that also includes physicians, nurses, LPNs, CNAs, social workers and more. A chaplain’s job is to walk alongside patients as they navigate their spiritual journeys at the end of life. Because chaplains aren’t tied to a particular church or religious background, they are focused on meeting patients where they are spiritually and providing the type of comfort and care each patient needs.

This typically involves performing an initial assessment with each patient that helps the chaplain understand their beliefs, church background, faith background and more. This allows the chaplain to find out what is important to the patient and how they can best support them, no matter their religious beliefs or denomination. It also allows them to connect the patient with other religious leaders, such as priests or ministers, who can provide religious-specific support.

Chaplains as listeners

One of the most important parts of a chaplain’s job is listening. They will often spend a lot of time with their patients going through a “life review” — which involves listening to the patient as they talk about their past, memories, accomplishments, interests, etc. This life review allows the chaplain to enter the patient’s world and gives the patient the often-therapeutic experience of sharing stories about their lives.

Through the life review, the chaplain builds a trusting relationship with the patient that gives them the foundation they need to better provide spiritual support. It also gives the chaplain an idea of things in the patient’s past that they may be able to help with and relieve any lingering negativity.

Chaplains as comforters

Providing comfort and easing any anxieties a patient may have as they near the end of their life is a big part of a chaplain’s role — and it looks differently for every person.

Religious patients may find comfort in scripture, prayer or sacraments such as baptism or communion. Other patients may have questions about spirituality if they haven’t been religious before but are looking for peace. Patients who are not faith-connected may want non-religious support to ease their minds in their final days, such as being reminded that their loved ones are being taken care of. Chaplains also often care for the family members of hospice patients, helping spouses, parents, grandparents, etc., find peace and hope in saying goodbye to their loved one.

For chaplains, it’s all about looking for signs of spiritual pain or distress and finding ways to relieve that anxiety and help someone find comfort in their hospice journey.

Chaplains as planners

One way chaplains can help patients and their family members find peace and comfort is by aiding in the funeral process. Often, chaplains are brought in to help with planning or even officiating the funeral.

For many patients who are able, speaking with a chaplain about their wishes offers them a chance to request specific poems, scriptures, songs or prayers that they would like to be read or played at their funeral. It also offers the chaplain an opportunity to gather information about the patient to ensure it’s a personal event that honors them in an appropriate way. Speaking about and planning their funeral ahead of time gives the patient peace of mind in knowing the funeral is taken care of — which can help relieve a lot of stress later in the hospice journey.

For hospice patients, navigating their spirituality is a big part of end-of-life care. Hospice chaplains play an important role in helping each individual patient and family member find the comfort they need, no matter their religious belief or background.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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Federal prisoner with terminal illness granted parole on compassionate grounds to die outside of jail

By Mitchell Consky

Ed Speidel

A terminally ill federal prisoner, who has been fighting for a compassionate release to die outside of jail, has been granted day parole.

Ed Speidel, a 62-year old prisoner with a terminal lung disease, will be permitted to enter a secure home with round-the-clock medical assistance, his lawyer told CTV News in an email.

Speidel suffers from end-stage chronic obstructive pulmonary disorder (COPD) along with rheumatoid arthritis, and medical tests show his lungs have only 19 per cent function compared to healthy adults.

In July, Speidel spoke about his fear of dying behind bars.

“My biggest fear is dying in jail. I don’t want to die in jail,” Speidel told CTV News in a phone interview, from an office in the Matsqui Institution, a medium-security prison in Abbotsford, B.C.

In July of 2022, Speidel, who has served a total of 41 years in prison requested parole by exception – also known as compassionate or geriatric parole — at a hearing, but his request was rejected.

This year, he obtained legal support and worked on an application for medically assisted death.

Speidel told CTV News that he was arrested for robberies and never hurt any one.

With more than 1,700 (25.6 per cent) prisoners in federal jails 50 years old and older, Speidel is one example of aging offenders increasingly susceptible to life-threatening health risks.

Lisa Crossley, who works with Prisoner Legal Services in Vancouver, told CTV News in July she thinks more options should be provided to terminally ill prisoners.

“For the vast majority of people, if you are terminally ill, what risks do you really pose? I think that should be asked and there should be more options for people for some type of release,” Crossley said.

“It is a matter of public importance that affects many people in federal prison.”

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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What age should you start Swedish death cleaning?

— Forty-seven sounds about right

The snooker legend Ronnie O’Sullivan wisely observes that you can’t take your stuff with you. So it’s best to stop accumulating it early – and start shedding what you have

By Adrian Chiles

Ronnie O’Sullivan has won an awful lot of snooker championships. This month he has added the 2023 Shanghai Masters to his collection. But he won’t be keeping the trophy. He doesn’t want his trophies. “I don’t want any memorabilia left by the time I’m 70 or 80,” he said. “I’m preparing for death – part of that is I don’t want no snooker stuff – waistcoats, cues, it’s all going to go.”

Ronnie O'Sullivan poses with the Shanghai Masters trophy
‘I don’t want no snooker stuff’ … Ronnie O’Sullivan poses with the Shanghai Masters trophy.

Preparing for death? Ronnie is in his 40s and, as far as anyone knows, in good health. But I know what he is getting at. You can’t take any of it with you. You can’t take your money or any of your stuff. For the former you will find any number of willing takers, for the latter not so much.

A nice woman I know asked me if I could find a home for her late husband’s extensive collection of old 78rpm classical records. She didn’t want money for them. “I just don’t want them to go to landfill,” she said sadly. I’ll find a good home for each and every one of them, somehow, but so much once-cherished stuff must end up in landfill. If we’re not careful, we burden our children and the planet with our things.

I came across something called Swedish death cleaning, defined as “a method of organising and decluttering your home before you die to lessen the burden on your loved ones after you’ve passed”. It is usually practised “by older people or those battling a terminal illness”.

This is on the right lines, but I’m with Ronnie – I think the process needs to start earlier in life. When my time draws near, I certainly won’t want to be stressing out driving around trying to find a home for my West Bromwich Albion memorabilia.

So when do you start? Ronnie’s 47 and that sounds about the right age to me; high time to stop accumulating stuff, and instead start shedding what you have.

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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My Husband Is Dying

— Advice from the Cancer Wars

Lou and Leida’s wedding day, 1982

The emotional and physical toll on both of us during our last year together

By Leida Snow

Everybody has a sell-by date, but some folks know theirs in advance. About a year ago, my husband and I had a meeting with a doctor who was new to us. Nice looking man with an open face. He saw our expectant looks and stopped mid-sentence. Looking at Lou he said, “Has no one mentioned that you have stage 4 cancer?”

No one had. We knew there was an issue. Lou has one kidney from birth, and at his yearly checkup, the kidney specialist said to talk to a cancer doctor. But he didn’t seem overly anxious.

I was grateful that finally someone was speaking truth. The hardest to hear was that Lou had, probably, about a year to live. It was as though someone had taken a very sharp knife and plunged it into my stomach.

The oncologist explained that Lou had cancer cells in his liver, but they were not those expected to be there. They were squamish cells, usually associated with other locations. That meant they had spread (metastasized) from somewhere else. But they didn’t know where they had come from.

A Rare Form of Cancer

Lou has cancer with unknown primary (CUP). It affects 2% to 5% of diagnosed cancers. The doctor’s next words tore at my gut: Because the primary source is unknown, there are no data-based, targeted treatments. In other words, for those with CUP, treatment is a guessing game.

I was grateful that finally someone was speaking truth. The hardest to hear was that Lou had, probably, about a year to live.

We had gotten the news at NYU Langone, a top-flight institution where we see our specialists. The overwhelming advice was to go to Memorial Sloan Kettering (MSK) in New York, the Gold Standard, we were told.

Given the restricted time frame, we expected MSK to build on NYU’s findings. But they had to re-do tests, to validate the results. Over the following months, I swallowed my anger and frustration, as the days filled with tests, biopsies, CT scans, MRIs, x-rays and hours spent waiting. The immunotherapy and chemotherapy had zero effect on killing any disease. I hugged Lou close as he comforted me when I couldn’t control the tears.

Lou suffered all the side effects — extreme fatigue, drug induced lung infection, steroids to deal with that, removal of huge amounts of fluid from his lungs, and, best/worst of all, the loss of over 30 pounds. Lou has never been fat. Now he is emaciated. I try not to show him how scared I am.

Not long ago, I heard a crash in the bedroom to find my 6’2″ formerly strong darling dazed on the floor.

There was the offer of one clinical trial. A hope glimmer. But it had mind-blowing side effects and wasn’t aimed at cancer with unknown primary. Lou decided to pass. I steeled myself to be strong for him.

So now we’ve enrolled in what’s called Home Hospice. It’s basically a space where there is no treatment, but you still hope for a magic bullet. Where I watch my husband become less every day.

Not long ago, I heard a crash in the bedroom to find my 6’2″ formerly strong darling dazed on the floor. Lou said he’d bent over to get his shoes and then started to fall without being able to control what was happening. The wall behind him was blood smeared. He had hit his head.

Feelings of Helplessness

Panic. Heart racing. Cloths to press on his head. An ice pack. The hospice said to do what I was doing. Asked if Lou wanted to go to the hospital. No. Didn’t know if I could get him up. But I did. The cut wasn’t deep, but I thought the bleeding would never stop. On his physician’s advice, Lou is no longer taking Eliquis, a blood thinner.

Last year I wrote an article for Next Avenue that flagged that falls can be the beginning of the end. Now it is shattering, personal knowledge.

I’ve cancelled almost everything. Since hospice, there’s minimal interaction with MSK and the long waits. We had to scrub our last session at MSK’s Center for Integrative Medicine. The acupuncture helped Lou to relax, but he was too exhausted to attempt to go.

A Lonely Road

It didn’t feel right to phone and cancel. I went to the appointment and spoke to the doctor. He counseled me to take care of myself. He asked me to keep in touch. His caring for Lou, and for us as a couple, is something I will always remember.

Lou doesn’t want to spend whatever is left of his life in a hospital, and I want to respect his wishes. My insides churn with helplessness.

A couple smiling together in Paris. Next Avenue
The couple on a trip to Paris, one of their favorite places.

My own NYU internist has scheduled a monthly video visit to check up on me, especially since I’ve lost more than 15 pounds unintentionally. And the local rabbi calls this agnostic at least once a week. Some friends have disappeared, but there are those who keep in touch. And, yes, I do have someone I can talk to. But it is a lonely road.

Over a year later, my 87-year-old husband has outlived his prognosis and is a shadow of what he was. But he is here. And I want him here.

Some people get inspired after a diagnosis. They reach for a goal or get everything in order. Lou is frustrated and bored, but he is too worn out to do much of anything. I want things however he wants them.

Mostly, he wants to sleep or read the newspaper or hug me. That’s what I cling to. That he’ll be there to cradle me in his arms me as long as possible. Sometimes we go to the sofa and lie with my head in his lap. Lou believes his job is to take care of me, and some of his distress is that he can’t anymore.

Sleep? Not so much. Exhausted. Deeply. What to do? Besides cry. Besides wish I could do more for this man who’s been my life for over 41 years. Because I can’t imagine my world without him. He’s my rock and my biggest fan, the one whose faith in me is stronger than my own. His all-embracing love is where I am home. Whatever I want to do, wherever I want to go, I want to share those experiences with Lou.

That’s the hardest part of Now. Because I’m with him in this no-man’s land, where we can only cling to each other and wait for the inevitable.

Of course, we would have tried anything, gone anywhere when we first heard Lou’s diagnosis and the medical predictions of our future. But if I’d known then what I know now, I would have encouraged Lou to make a different decision.

Regretting Endless Tests and Treatments

There are cancers that can be targeted. Cancer with unknown primary is not one of those. I hope anyone reading my words never faces what’s in front of us. But if you find yourself in this nightmare, here’s what I would say: Don’t spend whatever time you have going to doctors, submitting to endless tests and treatments, waiting in anonymous rooms filled with distracted, unhappy people. Sitting on uncomfortable chairs, being so vulnerable. Dealing with all-business staff that has all the time in the world, while your time is limited. And waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

If I had known then, what would I have done? I would have gone back to Paris with my husband, or we could have gone to the Broadway shows we missed.

If I had known then, what would I have done? I would have gone back to Paris with my husband, or we could have gone to the Broadway shows we missed. We would have reminded ourselves how lucky we were to be able to walk home from the theater. We could have taken in New York’s magisterial skyline from celebratory dining spots.

Now Lou is beyond tired. His legs give way and he falls, can’t get up. Sometimes I’m not strong enough, and we have to call for help. His MSK doctor says he’s fallen too many times and is not safe at home. Emotional overload. The doctor wants me to move him to an in-patient hospice. Lou knows not being home is a possibility. He is disconsolate.

No. I am not going to rush into anything. Moving furniture to make room for a hospital bed, even though Lou says he won’t use it. Never-ending efforts to schedule health aides. Medicare comes through with 15 – 20 hours a week. We now need 24/7. Trying not to think too far ahead.

Welcome to the third ring of hell. You may have read that because of COVID many health care workers died/changed careers/moved away. At the same time, more and more people need qualified help. Hours are spent trying to figure out what’s possible.

Recently my darling said, “What a terrible burden I’ve put on you.” I thought my heart would crack. “I don’t feel it as a burden,” I said, startled by my truth. What is breaking my heart is the fear that I won’t be able to help him, that I won’t know what the right thing is. Fortunately, the hospice physician and woman covering for him are knowledgable and compassionate.

So far, there is no pain. One blessing among the horrors. But he is suffering, and we are looking at a future of unknown — though not long — length.

Struggles of a Caregiver

As I’m writing this, Lou is visibly deteriorating. He can no longer turn himself easily in bed or rise to a sitting position without help. He can barely stand for a moment with assistance while he is moved from the bed to the wheelchair.

What is breaking my heart is the fear that I won’t be able to help him, that I won’t know what the right thing is.

I can’t imagine how people navigate this without a caring partner, but anyone taking on the caretaker role should know in advance: there is mighty little guidance. It’s learn-on-the-job. Case workers and nurses may or may not be thoughtful and compassionate, but you have to think of the questions to ask because too often no one volunteers information.

Are you willing to stay in because you don’t trust that the aide will keep your loved one safe? Or because the aide didn’t show up? Are you prepared to spend hours of your time trying to find coverage even though the agency assured you they would always be able to come through? Can you handle the blowback when you cancel what isn’t working? Can you deal with the additional cost? Are you prepared for the never-ending laundry? Can you function with catch-as-catch-can sleep, only a few hours each night?

My husband is dying. But he’s not gone yet. A few nights ago, he agreed to the hospital bed. He understood that if I don’t get some sleep, I won’t be able to be there for him. He hates the bed. Misses me at night. I miss him too.

Lou eats little, sleeps at odd hours, is restless at night. The aide has to wake me. Lou’s speech is now slurred. It’s hard to understand him. He is angry. He forgets. He wants the hospital bed and the strange people in the apartment gone. He wants me with him all the time. I am terrified.

Addendum: The Death of My Husband

In the daytime, he dozes, wakes, starts to read the newspaper, dozes, wakes, tries again to read. My plan was to write how I would put my arms around him, wanting him to know how much I love him. I was going to share how he would reach out to put his arms around me, wanting me to know how much he loves me.

On September 17th, Lou slept most of the day and night. He mumbled about wanting to go home. I held his hand, said he was home and I was with him. I used to call him my giant, and I told him that I would still choose him out of all the giants in the world. I said I would always be with him and he would be with me. He smiled, squeezed my hand and moved his lips to kiss me.

The next day, he woke and surprised me, wanting to brush his teeth, shave, shower. The aide helped him into the wheelchair and into the bathroom. Afterwards, I warmed some chicken soup. He reached for it and gulped down almost half a cup. Then he lay back to rest. Suddenly he was gasping for breath. And then he was gone.

I am numb. The aide gently repeats that Lou is not breathing. A convulsion of tears. I thought there were none left. Touching him. Taking his hand. Stroking his forehead. Kissing him. What do I do now? I am lost.

Call the hospice. They will send a nurse to sign the time of death. Call the funeral home. They will come. Then what? Vast emptiness. The rabbi calls and says I have to embrace life. Says that’s what Lou would want. Rationally I know he is right. Somehow, I will find a way. I just can’t imagine how.

This year, for our anniversary, June 27th, we had to cancel reservations at a restaurant with spectacular Manhattan views. Lou said it made no sense to go when he couldn’t eat much. He was devastated to disappoint me.

I said: “We’ll always have Paris.”

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!

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How To Say Goodbye to Your Pet

— Dog dad Zak Rosen on preparing for the inevitable.

Vanessa Gangadyal consoles her son, Ian, 8, while her husband, Michael Gangadyal, pets their dog, Ally, shortly after its passing.

Like many pet parents, Zak Rosen and his wife lived for years in a state of denial about their beloved dog, Rumi. Then they learned that Rottweilers only tend to live about eight to 12 years, and there was no denying it: Rumi is already in her twilight years. In the not-so-distant future, they’ll have to make some truly tough decisions.

On this episode of How To!, Zak seeks out advice about end-of-life pet care from Dr. Ellen LaFramboise, owner of Crossroads Veterinary Hospice, and fellow pet parent Gabby Santos, who shares how she prepared for the death of her 18-year-old miniature pinscher, Bob’i. Their conversation might change the way you think about your furry pal’s final days (and maybe even your own).

Complete Article ↪HERE↩!