As westerners we?ve generally developed a rather unhealthy attitude toward death and more specifically how we have come to ?handle? the body of the recently departed. For the most part we reject as much direct contact with the body as possible, turning those matters over to professionals. Of course we mourn, but it?s generally arm length from the body, which we get rid of as quickly as possible either through burial or cremation. We then try to normalize our life immediately, whether it is to go back to work right away, or just attempt to be happy. Mostly there is a low tolerance for death, dying, and grieving, and we can especially see this in all the advertisements promoting longevity and youthfulness.
My husband and my experience in Nepal, little over a year ago, really opened our eyes on how westerners relate to death. While in Katmandu, we scheduled a recommended guided tour of the city that included a visit to a cremation site. We double-checked our itinerary with our Lonely Planet travel guide, and sure enough, that was a very popular place to go to.
Many thoughts ran through my mind about what witnessing a cremation would be like. Bodies burning everywhere and the smell of flesh and debris flying around! I had imagined quite the scene. While I was quite open to experiencing as much of this very different culture as I could, I was having a hard time imagining why I would want this experience.
As it turned out, it was a sacred place. We had to park a ways away from the temple and walked up through a very active alleyway before arriving at the Pashupatinath Temple (Nepali: ??????????? ??????), one of the most significant Hindu temples of Lord Shiva in the world. We found the temple and it?s grounds to be stunning.
We arrived at the cremation observation area on the opposite riverbank from were six or so cremation platforms lined the opposite riverbank below the temple. When we arrived three platforms were in use in one area and a fourth in an area we learned was set-aside for important people. The families and friends were there with the bodies of their loved ones praying and preparing the body as they connected with their loved one?s physical form for the last time. Some of the bodies were covered from head to toe with marigolds.
While family and friends were paying homage to their loved ones; monkeys played in the river just below, as tourists walked on the opposite riverbank. Instead of the expected scent of burning flesh, what I was struck with was the power of the sacred feelings that permeated the air.
?That experience was the beginning of a huge shift in my attitude about death.
When I ask others what they intend to do for their funeral, most, if they?ve thought about it, simply plan to do what their parents and family always do. Until recently, I too was going the route of keeping family tradition. My family has been very big on donating their body to science. They feel that even after death you can still help others. I was a card-carrying body (not just organs) donor. As a body donor it was set that upon my last breath the medical school would come pick up my body. Along with this I believed that the soul leaves at death and that the body is immediately an empty shell.
A few months later Roger and I were in NYC visiting Roger?s daughter, Katie. While there we got news that a longtime friend of Roger?s, Robert Anders, had passed. As Robert was only 55 years old and had been in good health the last time we saw him it was quite a shock to learn he?d passed. Robert?s wife, Amy, had arranged for the body lay in state at their home for three days, on top of that she let it be know that anyone was welcome to be with the body any hour of the day. That evening we were to flying back to Asheville, not getting in until 11:30pm. Since the body was to be removed for cremation the following morning, we decided to drive right over to their house from the airport.
We arrived at their house at midnight. We were surprised to find Amy and three others sitting in loving silence around Robert?s body, as we found out later Amy had for three days. The feeling can only be described as sacred! It was so precious to be a part of this experience, and Robert looked so good for not having been in his body for three days.
He was lying peacefully on a massage table that was decorated with beautiful fabric and flowers lay around him. A friend of his had written a letter to Robert and placed it under his clasped hands that lay upon his chest. He wore white, and radiated a calm that permeated the room. The room was dimly lit, and the silence we experienced allowed us to feel the love that had come through the past few days. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before.
Nowhere was there any official looking funeral home signs or personnel you?d typically find at a wake. How was this possible? We found out that Amy was working with a local non-profit, Center for End of Life Transitions, which provides the need and support for friends and family who want to do home funerals. Amy talked about how this process has been so meaningful to her. She said during the first day, she kept waiting for him to wake up; second day, anger and grief came up; and third day, she knew that he was truly gone. She said that she experienced his life force pulling from his body.
Some traditions believe that it takes three days for a soul to leave the body, and Amy said that her experience of Robert?s three days, was that this was certainly her experience. With this, I was beginning to change my thinking about how to treat death, nonetheless I was still planning on donating my body to science. The real change came for me a few months later.
Roger and I had planned a bike trip across New York State with a group. My 13-year-old 115 lb malamute, Zapherys, had been declining in health, but did not appear to be leaving anytime soon. I didn?t want to risk it so I came back home after celebrating Roger?s birthday. As it turns out, that sadly was the right thing to do. Zapherys was in pain when I came back. I spent the next two days with him at the animal hospital, then home for his last day. I held him as he howled in pain nonstop. Roger was on the ride in NY, and I was not sure what to do.
A dear friend, who is a veterinarian, helped the decision; once I explained the situation to her she strongly suggested that I have him put to sleep. Since Roger would not be able to make it home for two days, I called the End of Life transition group that worked with Robert?s body and asked if they worked with pets, they said yes.
Words cannot describe the beautiful connection and precious experience of being with and helping Zapherys through this transition. I held him, cried, prayed, and watched him move from days of howling in pain to peace. They helped me move his body to a more private space, cleaned him up, and decorated his space with flowers and prayer objects. We kept his body there for three days. Roger was able to get home and spend one with him in a loving and completing way.
What I experienced in those three days is what really helped shift my thinking. I too experienced what Amy described with Robert?s passing process. On day one he seemed there in his body and asleep, then by the last day it felt that he was gone and what remained an empty shell. I remember walking in on the morning of the third day knowing that he had moved-on. Being a part of that process was a blessing to be experience, and I am grateful for it.
I would like to say that this experience was my last loss, but sadly a few months later my mother in law, Charlotte, who had been in pain for months went into the hospital right before Christmas, where test revealed she had stage 4 cancer. Thankfully, under Hospice care, she was able to go home. This was a shock since she was so vibrant and alive for an 88-year-old woman.
The blessing in this experience was that we were able to talk with her and family members about doing a home vigil after she passed. Everyone agreed, and the Center for End of Life Transition women came in to explain the process with her and answer any questions. During what would be her last two weeks, Charlotte was able to participate with the planning of her memorial. I could never forget sing the songs with her and the family that were going to be sung at her memorial. She sang the hymnals and received visitors in her home until she became unresponsive two days before her last breath. She had her last breath as all five of her children, a couple of her grandsons, and I surrounded her with open hearts and love. We held hands and sang, ?Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me,? a song she dearly loved.
The three-day vigil was precious. I sat in the room with her often while her friends and family came into the room and to say their goodbyes. Many stories were shared as we sat around Charlotte drinking our tea. People came in, touched her, held her hand, and found their personal way to say goodbye. Some even talked about others that they had lost in their life. Her body draped in a beautiful dress on her bed in the middle of the room radiated a space of love and healing for all who came in to say goodbye.
Any questions that I had remaining in my mind about donating my body to science were now gone. I called the medical school and took myself off the list. ?Although this past year?s losses were profoundly sad and challenging, I was blessed to have been gifted with new tools that helped me to be more empowered and conscious with each loss (I hadn?t even mentioned my 15 year old dog, Akasha, that I?ve had for 11 years was also struggling with her own life while Roger?s mom was sick and passed the day before Charlotte died). Death is inevitable, and I believe that when we treat it as the natural part of life that it is instead of avoiding it and seeing it as bad, then as a culture we can grow and support one another in a true and more thoughtful way in all areas and cycles of life.
I?d like to end with a quote from Socrates~
To fear death is nothing other than to think oneself wise when one is not.
For it is to think one knows what one does not know.
No one knows whether death may not even turn out to be
the greatest blessings of human beings.
And yet people fear it as if they knew for certain it is the greatest evil.
Thank you to Roger for your hours of editing and fine tuning this post.
This entry was posted in Empowerment, Personal, Travel, Uncategorized and tagged burial, conscious, cremation, death, deepening relationship with self, dying consciously, empowered, family, green funeral, home funeral, personal growth. Bookmark the permalink.Source: http://janesejohnson.com/a-fresh-look-at-dying/
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