How many of you expect to die?

How many of you expect to die is the title for one of the blog postings about aging in the New York Times

The father of a friend of mine died last week. He was 87, in good health until the last intervention, living at home and not in diapers. They discovered cancer, gave him his first session of chemo, he had an allergic reaction to the chemo and a week later he was gone.

To my mind, this is not a bad passing. A long active life, a life lived at home and still of sound mind, a quick, relatively painless, relatively inexpensive death (one fear that lingers for many Americans is that the titanic efforts at the end of their lives, to extend it by a year or two, will eat their house, and leave nothing for their children. Frankly, I feel this fear to be real and true for me.)

When I think about how I want to die, the answer is always, in my 80's I want to be diagnosed with cancer, get 3 months to put my affairs in order (yes, my will is written, but really, do I want someone else to go through my old underpants? Surely I can throw out the 20 almost empty bottles of perfume in my cupboard and not make my son look and wonder why I ever kept them) throw one last cocktail party, buy a really expensive something for each (any?) of the grandkids, and then, without chemo but with painkillers, quietly make my way... I like the scenario, it gives the illusion of control, of not leaving behind a mess.

I do think we don't talk enough about death. I know the Victorians fetishized it, but we've really taken to acting like we are going to live forever, and somehow astonished when it's proved otherwise.

Of course no one in their 40's expects to die, and yet, there was that awful plane crash the other day, and car accidents happen every hour. I have organized a living will (please pull the plug, take my eyes, take my liver if you think it will do any good... it's just meat by then, and the thought that my final act/choice could improve someone's life substantially gives me a sense of comfort.) made my wishes known to friends and family (I'm sparing my son, he's only 11, but I imagine when he's 21 I'll give him an envelope with final instructions, so he doesn't have wrenching decisions without any guidelines)

I would encourage everyone reading this to do the same... It's actually far easier to do it when we are all healthy and active, than have to make these decisions in the harsh light of the hospital waiting room...