Dying well: it's mostly up to you.

My colleague and trusted friend Norm Bowley is a retired lawyer. One of his superpowers is his ability to craft stories that incorporate powerful messages. I'm sharing one his posts below because you need to know this. 

My friend Dave spent most of his career as a lawyer with the Department of Justice, but in his free time threw himself into the cause of Restorative Justice. Everybody loved Dave and it was my privilege to meet him for lunch or breakfast every three or four months. 

We would often talk of his plans to spend a long retirement working to bring reconciliation between victim and perpetrator, with healing for both. Dave retired in early summer and he and his wife jetted off to Italy for a well deserved European vacation.

Shortly after he returned, I met him for breakfast at Kristy’s on Richmond Road, a once-famous hangout with 3000 calorie breakfasts and coffee by the litre. He was there early, and as I slid into the booth I asked him how he was doing, expecting to be regaled by tales of the joys of retirement and of happy travels.

Dave looked at me straight, not solemnly or sad, but matter-of-fact, and said, “I have three months to live. I wasn’t feeling well on the trip, and checked in with my doc when I got home. They tell me it’s stage four, and I may not be here for Christmas.”

What do you say? How do you respond?

I’m happy to report that Dave got close to six months, during which time he “held court” and made peace with everyone, professional, religious, social, or personal who he thought he may have wronged or who had wronged him. Probably a hundred such persons.

He also used the time to ensure all his financial and economic affairs were tidy, for the benefit of his wife and his family. And then he went to work and planned his entire funeral service, including the outline of the homily. Because he wanted it to be so, and planned it carefully, his service was in fact a joyous celebration of a life well-lived. 

The problem for many of us, though, is that death doesn’t announce its arrival in advance, but ambushes us when we’re unprepared, or subtly robs us of our wits and leaves us in a fog of confusion for years, unaware of our circumstances and unable to think about what we need to do.

Given that all of us will die at some point, but not all of us will get an early boarding call, it follows that the only way to be sure you leave the planet having made things as easy as possible for those you leave behind is to get your stuff together now, not tomorrow. 

As a lawyer, I got drawn into some pretty gosh-darned awful fights about such solemn matters as the size and shape of Dad’s gravestone or the order of ceremonies at Mom’s funeral. For crying out loud. And just wait till the will was found (or not)!

Karen and I fully intend on being around for another couple of decades, at least, but we’ve followed most of the advice we doled out over the years.

Funeral home arrangements laid out in detail and prepaid. Primary and secondary wills in place, and discussed in detail with our beneficiaries (our kids), and more importantly, our empowerment of Attorneys in the event of incapacity, including detailed discussions about how we want to be treated when calling the shots is no longer in our command. 

Full and frank discussions with all of our kids, right here, right now. Yeah, and we’ve talked about MAID, too. No secrets.

It's not up to chance whether things roll out smoothly and as you would like them to in the event of your incapacity or death. It’s up to you.

SUBSCRIBE to Norm's twice-weekly emails be emailing him at norm@purposeful.ca

What he does: Norm helps professionals and their firms exploit the magic of their unique Giftings.

#DyingWell #ItsUpToYou #PrepareForTheInevitable