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Doctor CamNC4Me wrote:EmilyAnn,

That was a phenomenal post. I'll have to talk to my spouse about this, and put it into my will with instructions on how to take care of business. What a healthy way for a loved one to process a death.

V/R
Doc

Thank you, Doc!!!

ludwigm wrote:Part 4 (especially to EmilyAnn...)
On the table near Anna’s chair (the chair where Henri always used to sit) was a big sand-glass, I think you call it an egg-timer.
Frieda: I know what you mean.
The sand takes four minutes to run through from the top to the bottom of the glass; and that’s the time you need to boil an egg.
Olaf: I saw a big one like that in an old church in Scotland.
But they called them “hour-glasses”.
The sand took an hour to run through, and when the preacher began his sermon he used to turn the glass upside down and then he preached until all the sand had run through.
The old Scots liked good value for their money!
Hob: Never mind the Scots.
Let Lucille get on with her story.
I want to hear what happened to Henri.
I think Anna had murdered him; I hope she had.
Lucille: Well, I noticed that Anna looked every now and then at the sand-glass and whenever she saw that the sand (a peculiar, dark-coloured sand) had run through, she turned the glass and let the sand run through again.
Just then the front doorbell rang again, but instead of jumping up at once to answer it as Anna always used to do, she just turned the sand-glass over and sat still.
When the sand had all run through, she got up quietly and went downstairs to answer the door.
So that was why I had to wait so long! It all seemed very funny, but I didn’t say anything.
She came back and we continued our chat, and then she said, “But you must be hungry, Miss Lucille; I’ll make lunch.
Would you like an omelette?” I certainly was hungry and, knowing Anna’s omelette of old, I said there was nothing I should like better.
But again she didn’t get up.
She just turned over the sand-glass and when she saw the sand had run through, she got up and cooked the lunch.
It was not until we had finished lunch that I said, “Where’s Henri?” Anna said, “He’s dead; he died about a year ago”.
I couldn’t say, “I’m sorry to hear it”, I just sat silent.
Anna continued, “He got into one of his rages and suddenly dropped down dead”.
There was a pause.
She picked up the sand-glass.
“I had him cremated”, she said.
“These”, and she pointed to the sand, “are his ashes. He never worked while he was alive, but I see to it that he does now he’s dead”.

And she turned the sand-glass over again.

[/quote]



Wonderful story, ludwigm!

Thank you!!

Some Schmo wrote:

Doctor CamNC4Me wrote:EmilyAnn,

That was a phenomenal post. I'll have to talk to my spouse about this, and put it into my will with instructions on how to take care of business. What a healthy way for a loved one to process a death.

V/R
Doc

I agree, that was a great post. I doubt people really think much about the details of processing a death (I certainly hadn't). The fact that doing it yourself is likely the most economical way to handle a death in the family is secondary to the healing benefits you describe. It never occurred to me that having a funeral home handle everything likely postpones the healing process to some degree.

I really appreciate you sharing that with us.

I (now...with the experience I've had dealing with the different after-death options) fully agree that having a funeral home handle everything definitely postpones the healing process, and I knew this from my very first important death (my Grandpa)...where the funeral home came in and "did everything." That may be okay for people you don't really care all that much about, but it prolongs the healing immensely when the dead person is someone you really, really, REALLY love.

Thank you, Some Schmo!!

EmilyAnn wrote:

Wonderful story, ludwigm!

Thank you!!

I've stolen it from C. E. Eckersley.

The general opinion around in the non-english-speaking-world (spelling?) that his four volume course is the best. Moreover, I used to learn a lot of about British lifestyle and worldview.

Tchild wrote:I am both unprepared to die and afraid of dying. It isn't so much the dying part, it is the permanence of the dying that is frightening. I think I will be a bit more mentally prepared once my children are older and set to face the world.
.

This, I'm afraid because of health issues with my kids and the fear they might not be okay.

Doctor CamNC4Me wrote:So.

Are you prepared to die?

V/R
Dr. Cam

I think that is a pretty complicated question ;)

The first association I get when I think of death is the old "Far Side" cartoon with Colonel Saunders (KFC) standing at the pearly gates looking a bit worried at two massive chicken statues on each side of the entrance.

Death comes to all like the inevitable sunset.
In a distance death can be romanticised, but when it is coming closer and the gravity of the matter sinks in (if we dare allow it to), things can be quite raw.

I have seen both young and old die, some quickly, some slowly, some in beds, and some on the ground.
The physiological mechanisms of the body are always fighting to survive, while the minds are in various states.
Some have fear and panic, some pain and anxiety, and some are peaceful and calm.

I keep wondering how I will behave when my turn comes.

One thing that gives me strenght to face death is the courage I have seen in some young people.
I think since they were able to face it and embrace it, I can do no less.

What scares me the most is the though of leaving the ones I love behind, and not being sure if I will ever see them again.

I think the question of "are you ready to die" can be refrased to "are you ready to leave all you know and step into the unknown forever"?

In a way death can be seen as a hangman..
He will take you to the gallows no matter what. You can go kicking or screaming, or with a more dignified style, but hang you must.

As some have commented the "old age home" is not a place to seek after. I hope that if I live that long my mind and hands will be clear and strong enough to settle the deal before it comes to that.
If I could chose myself, the perfect scenario would be a planned "death day", where family and friends can celebrate together with me before I die instead of after.

Farewells would be made.
After the party I could walk down to the sea in the sunset while the guest got to a viewing point in a safe distance (1000m from blast point).
I could settle in a recaro chair on top of a sizable load of fuel and explosives by the seaside and hand myself over to the unknown by the help of a Nonel detonator.

The detonation speed of the high explosive would be higher than the maksimum speed of the nervous system, so my brain probably wouldn get the message before I was spread across the sea.
The grankids could say that "granpa left the planet with quite a blast".

In regards to Mormonism I feel that I am prepared to die, in the sense that I have peace with my knowledge that the church is not more important for my potential afterlife than the KFC.
I don't fear having to meet Bro. Joseph at the pearly gates.

Kind regards
Uther