Category Archives: Death


Years ago my great aunt, who I was very close to, was in the hospital dying from cancer. I would visit her daily since her family lived out of town. I didn’t mind doing this at all, in fact the time we spent together was wonderful. Then she had a stroke, and was no longer able to speak. On my visits I started to confide in her. Though she was unable to respond, I could see the support in her eyes. Her days were numbered and as she worsened I would read her parables from the Bible.

The number of people I choose to confide in is very limited, basically there is my husband and best friend. Yet, even then there are always some things you cannot say. Last night, was one of those nights where because of circumstance I was left heartbroken, crying alone. Hubby was at work and I really didn’t want to phone anyone to explain how I was feeling, I just wanted to be alone in my tears.

Sometimes sharing how you feel is difficult. How do you feel about sharing your feelings?

Children, funerals, life

Over the years my children have been to far to many funerals. There have been funerals for their great-grandmas, great-aunt, great-uncle, grandma and grandpa, the little girl from school and most recently their aunt. When they were young, they read passages for their great-aunt, great-grandmother and great-uncle.

When we found out that my father only had months to live, we moved him into our home, where he spent his last six months of life. When he realized it was the end, he had me take him to the hospital. The next day, I brought my children down to see him so he could say goodbye. Each child bent over so he could whisper words into each of their ears. It was the hardest thing I ever had to watch. Afterwards in the courtyard, all three children were crying but middle child took it the worst. She had spent countless hours with him, learning to tend his vegetable garden or just following him around and now she felt guilty. She wanted him to pass to heaven, she had seen the pain he had lived with the last six months of his life. Trying my best to find the right words to say to her was difficult but my father was ready to let go and that gave her peace. When it was time for his funeral, middle child and the teenage boy decided to stay home, it would be the first funeral in years that they didn’t read a passage from the bible. I knew my father would be fine with this, he was of Irish/English decent and believed that you had a party to celebrate life after someone died.

When my brother’s wife got sick with cancer, my children visited her regularly during her chemotherapy treatments. They made her smile and laugh. When she passed, they did go to the funeral home, but it was beyond difficult, she was 30 years old. For the funeral, they decided they just couldn’t attend, my husband and I were okay with this decision and so was my brother.

With all of the funerals over the years, we have talked extensively with our children about death. Therefore, when their dad and I pass, there will be no funeral home visits, no church service, instead they will gather with family and friends at our home and have a party to celebrate the life we enjoyed. Not everyone will agree with our choice, but it is our choice, and we want our children to laugh at all the silly things we said, did over the years. They can remember the sad times too, but most of all, we want them to realize we loved every minute with them.

How do you define morbid?

Sadly last week, my husband unexpectedly lost his mother. She had lived a long and enjoyable life, lasting into her eighties. She spent her retirement years down east, so when we were told of her passing, we along with other family members hoped on a plane. There are seven children, and with spouses that is quite a number to put up. All the bedrooms were assigned, and for my husband and I to be together in one bed, we were given my mother-in-law’s bed, the death bed. It’s sounds very morbid when put like that, but it actually relieved the tension in the room. I thought I would be creeped out by sleeping in the bed she actually died in, but we were exhausted the first night from travelling so the thought didn’t cross our mind, and the second night, well, it became a joke that hubby and I were sleeping in the death bed. Now, there are going to be people out there, who won’t take to me joking about this, but everyone copes with death differently.