Let's Talk About It: Death, Dying, and End of Life Planning ~ by Dr. Michael Williams

Let's Talk about Death and Dying

I was sitting in a pub a few years ago, minding my own business, when a friend popped in and asked me if I wanted to go to a “Deaf café”. I assumed this would be a meeting in a nearby café where I'd learn something about sign language and working with the deaf. “Sure,” I said, “that's something I've always wanted to know more about.”
I followed my friend out and he led me not to a café but to a nearby community centre where we found about fifteen people sitting around a table drinking cups of tea and eating cake. “Welcome to our 'Death Café'” a woman holding the teapot announced, “please, take a seat.” Not wanting to admit my mistake, I sat down.
     “What's a Death Café?” I thought, sniffing the tea for that tell-tale almond scent of cyanide. I scanned the others around the table. Everyone seemed 'normal' to me — a mixture of older men and women, a few thirty and forty-somethings, and a young couple in their mid-20s. Hardly a suicide or death cult.
     Sandra—the woman with the teapot—welcomed everyone and began by explaining what a 'Death Café' was — a safe place to talk openly about death and dying. Death Cafés, she explained, are part of a growing worldwide movement to open up the conversation about the end of life. They follow a simple format — invite people to come and talk about death over a cuppa. Any misgivings that this
was going to be some sort of religious or philosophical discussion were soon dispelled. Instead, this was simply an informal conversation or chat during which everyone was encouraged to listen and share their thoughts and feelings and experiences of death and dying. We weren't there to “fix” anyone, just listen and open our hearts and speak honestly about this difficult subject.
     There was an elderly woman who had recently lost her husband of fifty years. She wanted to share her grief and sadness. Another woman in her 50s, whose husband had died rather suddenly of cancer, shared her anxiety at sorting out the finances and legal issues. “We were so intent on fighting the cancer,” she said, “that we didn't really talk about what happens after death.” Others murmured their compassion and shared their anxieties: “I don't have a will,” confessed one; “neither do I,” admitted another. Other heads nodded around the table. Come to think of it, I didn't have one either. The talk soon turned to the legalities around death including wills, power of attorney, and advanced directives, which record your wishes for medical care in the event you can't make decisions for yourself.

Then the conversation turned to more personal experiences and the practicalities that a loved one's death entails. How would I access my father's bank account in the even he died suddenly? Where are the passwords? What happens to all his tools in the shed? Do we have to be resuscitated if we don't want to, especially if it means I'll be a 'vegetable'? Who decides? So many questions. Yet it wasn't the purpose of the Death Café to provide answers but rather to let people share with one another. I found myself thinking about the earliest death I can remember — at the age of nine, I recall coming home from school and being met at the door by my mother — “Your grandfather's dead,” she announced, “go downstairs with your brothers and keep quiet.” That was it. No further discussion.
     Suddenly, I felt the need to talk. “I wish I'd been able to meet my father's last wish,” I began, “He wanted to die at home but the doctors said he was best cared for in the hospital. I didn't know what to do. It still bothers me, especially since I now know that there were options. At the time, I just didn't know what they were.” Someone else had a similar experience. It felt good to be heard. I felt less alone. I'd never fully realized how many of us think about death and the end of life but don't really talk with anyone about it. And that's what a Death Café is about – pulling back the curtain on a subject we consider too morbid or upsetting or impolite to talk about with one another. And it's all done with a degree of civility that only tea and cake can bring to the table.

Taking Action: Good End-of-Life Planning
     A couple of weeks after attending the Death Café, I received an email from one of the Café attendees—Jane Rogers—who was offering two-weekend workshops on end-of-life planning. She was the woman whose husband had died of cancer. She was preparing a course aimed at helping people plan for the inevitable. There were about a dozen of us who showed up, mostly women but a few of us men. The focus was largely practical – putting your financial affairs in order, making important details like bank passwords and account numbers readily available to family members, updating wills (or creating them), assigning power of attorney, decluttering, and much more. Jane had prepared a “workbook” with a checklist of items to consider including your preferences of burial, cremation, or other form of disposal. Did you want a funeral or other form of ritual ceremony? Who did you want informed of your demise? Anyone you didn't want informed? Jane had obviously given this a lot of thought, certainly more than I had ever considered. (That was largely in part due to her experience around her husband Philip's untimely death, which she's discussed in detail in her book Gifted by Grief (2015, www.giftedbygrief.com)).
     What really surprised me in the days after the workshops was how less afraid I was of Death. I told Jane that it was like I'd stopped and turned around to face my fear. “I know the Grim Reaper is stalking me like he's stalking all of us,” I said, “but I feel that by acknowledging him rather than pretending that he's not there, I'm taking control of my fear. I felt empowered by making plans.”
     Since those workshops, Jane had developed her passion for end-of-life planning into a successful business – Before I Go Solutions®. She offers a range of online webinars, workshops, discussions, and even a training course for future facilitators. In 2018, I enrolled on Jane's training course for facilitators. It consisted of a dozen or more modules, broken down into weekly meetings, discussions, and lots of homework and sharing with our fellow trainees. Jane was available for our weekly coaching calls during which we watched videos and discussed readings on a range of topics related to death and dying. We shared our reflections with the class and learned from our colleagues' feedback and experiences.
     Since receiving my accreditation, I have gone on to facilitate a project with a group of seniors identified as "Experiencing Social Isolation and Loneliness." My training has been invaluable for opening up important conversations around getting older and end-of-life planning. In January of this year (2019), I co-facilitated an Elders Circle of Wisdom and Knowledge and have been invited to speak on our life stories and their relation to the choices we make in life. What I've realized is that by exploring death, I feel more alive. By opening up the conversation around end of life and dealing with the practicalities ahead of my time, I feel as if I've done a service to my loved ones. And best of all, by creating a proactive, end-of-life plan, I feel freer to enjoy my life.
     This Spring (2019), I will begin offering my own end-of-life planning service based on Jane's Before I Go Solutions® programme. As an accredited facilitator, I feel I can offer a practical and much needed service. It is estimated that about 75% of people acknowledge the importance of a good end-of-life plan, yet less than a quarter have actually done anything about it. This inevitably creates problems for loved ones when finances and property are put in limbo by the government and the legal system because there's no will or other documentation in place. Many people ignore making an end-of-life plan because they assume their family will know what to do. I can tell you, that is not always the case. Having a Power of Attorney and Advanced Directive ensures your wishes are respected. Believe me, your family will appreciate that you took the time to think this through.
     Sure, death and dying can be scary topics to talk about. I felt that way too. But opening up the conversation and talking about them has opened up my eyes and ears and my heart. Talking about these things has reduced the fear and given me the confidence to help others too. I look forward to helping you take control of your life by addressing the inevitable and creating a positive end-of-life plan.
     If you wish to know more about my end-of-life planning service, please email me at docforpeace@yahoo.com.
     To learn more about Jane Rogers' Before I Go Solutions® programmes, please visit  www.beforeigosolutions.com.


Dr Michael Williams is an accredited Before I Go Solutions® facilitator who helps folk like you create your own positive end-of-life plan. He is also a professional storyteller, story coach, mentor, and speaker. For more than 40 years, Dr. Williams has worked internationally with men and women, young adults, and children in educational, community, and therapeutic settings. 

To learn more, please visit   MICHAEL WILLIAMS STORY COACHING

3 comments:

  1. Michael, it's an honor having you as our guest today. Thank you for sharing information with us about a subject not many want to handle. Very necessary and informative. You are always welcome at Originality by Design.

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  2. I've never heard of a Death Cafe. Seems like a great way to connect, informally, with others who are grieving. Thanks for the post.

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    1. You're welcome, Jacquolyn. Death Cafes and other informal meetings are great places to have those conversations that seem difficult. Talking about death, dying and grief doesn't have to be morbid at all. In fact, it can be quite liberating. We needn't keep our feelings bottled up. Thanks for your comment.

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