What's it like to die?

A couple of days ago, I was running my morning errands before getting to the studio and I made my regular stop at our photo lab, Pacific color. Jen, the customer service gal, was there with her friendly smile helping an athletic-looking woman clad in leggings, tennis shoes, knit cap and down vest.

I walked up to the counter and waited for Jen to return and began admiring the photos on the wall. Then Jen came back and explained that our orders would be ready in a few minutes because a different employee was doing the invoicing today. Then she told us that Denise's mother had died this morning and she was having a hard time wrapping things up before going home.

I immediately said that I was sorry to hear about her loss and asked if it was a sudden death or a lingering illness. Jen said that Denise's mom had been in hospice care for some time. I nodded my head and said that hospice care is the last step before dying and told her a little bit about Doug's mom and how she died at home from lymphoma.

At the mention of lymphoma, the woman next to me, Ann, said, "what kind of lymphoma?" "Non-hodgkins," I said. "What kind of non-hodgkins?" she replied. "I didn't know there were any varieties," I said. "Yes, there are. There are many. I have a very rare form and it's incurable."

I wasn't sure how to respond to her, except to ask her how she is feeling and how her family is handling it. She told me that her husband is very stressed and her grown children call her everyday, but nobody wants to talk about her actually dying. She said, "One day I'm thinking that I'll probably end up with alzheimer's like my mother and the next day, the doctors are telling me I have two years to live."

I shared Anna's story with her and how Doug and I were with her at the end. Then she asked me, "What's it like to die?" Nobody had told her what she was going to experience or what the hospice care would be like. I told her all about how the family helped Anna select her hospice care options and then how Anna told me everything she wanted for her funeral and how we wrote the list of all her possessions that she wanted to distribute to family members."

After telling Ann the entire story, I cried because being with Anna when she passed away was one of the most precious moments of my life. "When we are mothers we are present when our children are born, but as a dying person there's no guarantee that family will be present and we need comfort from loved ones to help us die without fear."

We were silent for several moments and then Jen came back with our photo orders. Those quiet moments spoke volumes as Ann thought about what I had told her and I thought about how self-assured she was about taking care of the little details in her life.

Before she left, I suggested that she get all her affairs in order as best that she can and to make sure that her family talk about her illness, dying and life after she is gone. "Nobody wants to talk about it, they're in denial. But knowing your wishes will give them great comfort when the time comes to make all your final decisions."

Ann nodded her head and said that she had been cleaning her house for the past couple of months organizing everything for her family. "It's helped me cope," she said.

As she walked away I gave her a big hug and wished her good luck and marveled at her dignity and courage. I hoped that telling her Anna's story would help her alleviate some of her fears of dying.

Then just as briefly as she had entered my life, she was gone forever.