Death. That word is a buzz-kill right from the start of the blog post, right? Death is an event or process that we all experience and yet we have a difficult time talking about it. Well, I want to talk about death. And I want to talk about my death. If you are open to the conversation, read on…

About two weeks ago, I learned that the velocity of blood flow through my aortic valve increased .6 since the cardiologist measured it a year ago. To put that in non-cardiology speak, the velocity of my aortic valve has not increased .6 in the last nineteen years combined. So this is big heart deal. I have outlived the Mayo Clinic cardiologist’s prediction by 59 years. But my heart is clearly not doing well. After consulting with the cardiologists at the UW, I now know that I am not eligible for some of the new fangled heart procedures that would spare me from having my sternum cracked and my heart opened. I will have to wait a little until my heart is bad enough to do surgery, but not too long so I am strong enough to survive the surgery. And so, of course, I am thinking about my death.

I once heard Wayne Dyer say that death is not the enemy of life. Death is the partner of life. His words resonate with me. Knowing that I did not have a long life expectancy has been an amazing gift in some ways. I paid captive attention to time and made each moment count. I would think to myself, “I have to do that!” and somehow I would find a way to make it happen. And as a result, I have lived multiple lifetimes in my almost 62 years. While this was not a perfect process, seize the day was clearly a part of my vocabulary long before cancer arrived on the scene.

Still, the recent news about my heart has me thinking of life, and death, once again. And the emotions that accompany my thoughts are like waves crashing over me. Fear. Gratitude. Grief. Desire for more. Powerlessness. But what do I do with those emotions? The people in my life struggle with these conversations. In the face of the emotions that are crashing over them, they offer reassurances I do not want or need. They are unable to find the right words to say when all I really need is for them to be still with me. I do feel compassion for my dear ones. This is a difficult path to travel. But on the other hand, I feel like I am going it alone, and sometimes that is a really lonely place. I do not need death to be the focus of my life. I just need to allow death to have some space in my life and I’d like the people in my life to share that space with me more than they do.

So, my dear readers, why am I rambling on about death in this post? Because connection is as vital in death as it is in life. That’s really important, so let me say it again. Connection is as vital in death as it is in life. That means we have to talk about death and that communication requires that we stay open to the painful emotions of loss. Accepting death and all that comes with it can be one of the most courageous ways to show up for life. And everyone has within us the bravery to do so.

This blog post is for Carol. You are not alone.