“This Party’s Dead: Grief, Joy and Spilled Rum at the World’s Death Festivals” by Erica Buist

At first, this book, with its dancing skeletons on the cover, didn’t impress me. The author discussed a loss she had suffered, mentioning that Americans don’t grant a bereaved person much respect or attention when the person being mourned falls outside of a few clear categories – immediate family being the most prominent.

Then Ms. Buist, able to work without going into an office, departed on a world tour to check out death festivals and practices in various cultures. I didn’t feel particularly responsive to what she wrote about Mexico and Nepal.

But back in the USA, she stumbled onto transhumanism, of which I had been wholly unaware! I missed it! OMG. (I don’t like missing things.) Transhumanists, according to Ms. Buist, believe that we can and should develop technology that will permit us to live forever as CYBORGS. Just keep replacing your organic parts (including your brain) with well-designed machinery, and you can live forever.

Transhumanists consider it weak to “accept” death. They detest the contemporary American “death positivity” movement, which seeks to overcome the taboo against talking about death and encourages people to plan for their final days. Ms. Buist analyzes these movements in terms of both gender and socioeconomic status (relative privilege), and it gets VERY interesting. Why are most tranhumanists male and many “death positive” spokespeople female? (Did she miss Atul Gawande?) She also analyzes the Mexican Santa Muerte movement, which translates roughly to “Holy Death”, symbolized by a female death figure to whom one can pray for a delay in leaving this life. (Okay, I missed this, too. And it is somehow related to narcotics trafficking.) Both the Mexican government and the Roman Catholic church disapprove of Santa Muerte, going so far as to destroy shrines. I’m pretty sure this hasn’t gotten to New Jersey.

Will Erica Buist tackle the controversial “medical aid in dying” movement? I’m only on page 139 of 296. Six more countries to go! I definitely plan to keep reading.

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“Ghostbuster’s Daughter – Life With my Dad, Harold Ramis” by Violet Ramis Stiel

This book was recommended to me by my comedian son, who lives in Chicago, home of the Second City Comedy troupe and, for a time, Harold Ramis and family.

But the real “hook” for me was Ghostbusters! The movie was released in 1984, the same year my older son was born. A huge hit! Wildly funny. Lots of ancillary products, like T-shirts. I can’t remember at what age we first took Ben to see it. It totally captured his imagination, and became his first “commercialized” passion. Our best purchase was Ghostbuster coveralls, with “Who You Gonna Call?” on the back. Both boys wore them. I’d have bought a pair for myself, if I saw them in my size.

Phrases from the movie worked their way into our daily conversation and have remained to this day. The best were “Back off, man, I’m a scientist!” and Ramis/Egon’s great deadpan line “I collect spores, molds and fungus”. We still refer to any deteriorated property as “a unique fixer upper opportunity” and remind each other “everybody has three mortgages”. “You really eat this stuff?”

So I have to tell you I was hoping for more details about Ghostbusters, which the book did not provide. The book moves sequentially through Steil’s life. I hadn’t known how many films Ramis was involved with as actor, writer, director and/or producer. Steil visited the sets of most of the movies, but her reminisces weren’t particular enlightening.

The personal chapters were more interesting. Violet Ramis Steil is a lively and perceptive writer. This wasn’t my first entertainment world autobiography. Bottom line, I don’t know how the children of celebrities survive! They are exposed to drugs and crazy adult behavior, and sometimes forced to grow up fast because their parents are irresponsible. Harold Ramis had his wilder moments, but settled down in his second marriage. He became wealthy and was generous towards his daughter and many other people.

Stiel’s discussion of her education and career choice was interesting. She knew she did not want to join the entertainment world. She wanted to help people, and went to graduate school to study social work, specializing in maternal and child health and welfare. Approving wholeheartedly, Ramis subsidized her so that she could live in Manhattan on a social worker’s salary. 

The chapters about Ramis’s death are terribly painful. In 2010, he developed diverticulitis, followed by infection and a brain damaging stroke. Thinking he might recover and return to the work he loved, his wife limited the information that was shared outside the family. Four years of terrible struggle followed. Ramis experienced painful and repeated complications, seizures, treatments, and rehabilitation. No one should suffer that way.

I can’t find out what Violet R Stiel has been doing since her book was published in 2018. After the reviews, she’s been relatively invisible – not in Wikipedia, minimally present on Facebook. (Maybe I just don’t know where to look.) I hope she’s writing. Maybe she’ll provide commentary on the pandemic! 

“Being Mortal – Medicine and What Matters in the End” by Atul Gawande AND “Five Wishes” by Aging With Dignity

Am I getting morbid? I read and think a good deal about aging and death. I’m 70 years old. People around me are coping with health problems. Help!

My first reaction to Being Mortal was that it’s a complete downer. Gawande shares stories from his own family. If a family that includes highly educated medical professionals suffers so much confusion and difficulty managing end-of-life care, what chance do the rest of us stand?

I suggest starting on Chapter 4 or 5, and taking the remainder according to your interests. To me, the second half of the book was generally more useful than the first half. That said, this book (published in 2014) is a thoughtful contribution to the ongoing conversation about aging and death in America. I recommend it highly.

Gawande emphasizes that it’s not only the patient who benefits from advance planning. The course of a person’s last days or weeks has major impact on the mental health of survivors, say six months later.

The take away message in Being Mortal is buried on Chapter 6 (Letting Go), on page 172. HOPE IS NOT A PLAN.

We all hope to die at home, surrounded by our loved ones. We hope for dignity and freedom from pain. Our chance of getting this positive end-of-life experience is small. Most Americans die in hospitals or nursing homes. If that’s my fate, I want to know everything I can do in order to have some control over what happens, to “do it my way”.

Five Wishes is a form (more of a workbook) that you can fill out so that your loved ones know what you want. Any one of us may have intervals (possibly temporary) when we can’t make our own medical decisions. Families are often faced with weighty decisions. Family members may disagree about treatment. Five Wishes won’t solve all of this, but it can help.

So, I’m not “being morbid”. I’m trying, in my own way, to do some planning, to lay some groundwork, to make my future easier and more positive, and to ease my loved ones’ burdens when I die. That’s all. I feel good about it.

“A Beginner’s Guide to the End – Practical Advice for Living Life and Facing Death” by BJ Miller and S Berger

[480 pages plus resources, notes and index, published 2019 by Simmon and Schuster. TED talk available.]

I didn’t finish reading this book, but I have to return it to the Library because there is a “Hold” on it. Good! Someone else is interested in this topic.

It’s difficult to talk about death. Even language becomes a problem. Euphemisms abound. The one I try hardest to avoid is to say that I “lost” someone. No! I didn’t “lose” my mother! She was not misplaced. She DIED, despite good care and strong family support.

It’s easy to be confused and overwhelmed when a loved one is dying. The time to read and plan is NOW, before a crisis hits. Like many self help books, this one begins with the authors’ accounts of their experiences with the topic at hand. Miller survived electrocution, and Berger helped care for her dying father for several years.

Chapter 1 (“Don’t Leave a Mess”) resonates with me and most of my friends. We are trying to get rid of stuff! Sometimes I envy people who have moved every 5 years. Surely they are doing better than I am at downsizing. This book also discusses the psychological messes some of us carry around.

Chapter 13 (“Hospital Hacks”) is for everyone, but especially those with little or no experience with contemporary hospitals. Everything changes rapidly in the medical field.

The authors describe their book as being for

• Anyone with a serious diagnosis
• Anyone who loves a person who is aging
• Anyone who wants to make his or her exit easier on their family
• Those who want to make the most of life NOW

Pretty much all of us, right?

Why I Support Medical Aid in Dying – death of a friend

I remember…

Karl (not his real name) was my friend from 1975 until he died in 1997. He was a retired Professor of Physics and an avid tinkerer, installing solar hot water on his house in 1976! We were neighbors, and in lived in identical tract houses. Whenever something went wrong at my house (plumbing, or birds nesting in the dryer outlet), I called Karl and he told me how to fix it.

Karl and his wife moved away in 1987, but we kept in touch. Karl was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease around 1990. It was treated with some success, but inevitably, over time, it progressed. Karl hated dropping things, and stumbling. He detested the idea of losing his independence and wanted control of his fate.

In January of 1997, Karl shot himself in the head. This action was carefully and thoughtfully planned, though not explicitly announced in advance. He made sure his wife was not alone when his body was found.

Karl died alone, and he died by violence. These two circumstances were in total contradiction to his life and values. Karl was sociable and extensively connected to family and friends, and certainly he was never violent. What a shame that he had no better choice. What a shame that my memory of him is darkened by the grim thought that at least he got it right on the first try.

Please, listen to that again.  At least he got it right on the first try. Something is profoundly wrong when this is the best that a dying person can hope for.

I doubt that New Jersey’s new (and still controversial) Aid in Dying law would have helped Karl. Would any doctor attempt to project the life span of a person suffering from Parkinson’s disease? Possibly not. But, as medical science continues to prolong life, we need to consider and reconsider how best to support human dignity and autonomy at the end of life.

 To brighten my dear friend’s memory, a cheerful anecdote: One day I spotted Karl in the restaurant next to the local Post Office, drinking coffee. I didn’t have time to stop for a cup, but I dashed in. “Karl, let me smell your coffee!” I inhaled deeply over his cup – wonderful! We exchanged 30 seconds of news and I rushed off. Unfortunately, I was recognized by somebody as “that lady from the Health Department” and a rumor started that there was something wrong with the water, or the coffee, or the restaurant! I had to reassure anxious neighbors that no health department ever evaluated drinking water (or coffee) by smelling it.

Donating your body to science

Recently my friend RHC proudly showed me his “full body donor” card. He carries it next to his driver’s license, to be sure that in case of his sudden death, his wishes are carried out. Yes, he wants to offer his body “to science”.

RHC and I have known each other for decades, long enough to experience some losses and to have discussed aging, death and funerals. A few months ago, he mentioned his intention to donate his body. I asked who knew about it. He said he had told his brother, but had made no specific arrangement.

I told him that was not enough. A potential “full body donor” needs to make an arrangement with a hospital or medical school.

How do I know? Several members of a local family have donated their bodies. One survivor mentioned it to me at the time of a death – she supported her husband’s decision and regarded the donation process as a convenience. Cremated remains would be returned to her in a few months.

The teaching hospital to which the body was sent holds a memorial gathering annually. Families of body donors are invited to join in honoring the deceased and receiving public thanks from the hospital. Some people find comfort in this.

Why am I putting this in my blog?? Because some reader has probably thought about body donation, but not gotten around to making arrangements. If you Google “full body donation + your state”, you will find all the information you need. Or maybe you’ll decide against it, and can put the issue aside.

While we’re on the subject, have you taken care of the other things every adult should do in order to make your passing easier for your loved ones? Is your will up to date? What about medical care directives? Have you left, perhaps informally or in a codicil to your will, information about where to FIND your important papers?

Does this sound morbid? It’s not! Steps you take to help your family in the future will probably make you feel good.

“The Sea” a novel by John Banville, 2005

This book was recommended to me by a young adult relative. He was supposed to have read it for a college course in Irish Literature. But he didn’t… I think it would be more appreciated by older readers, but I can understand why it was part of a course. It’s so good!

The Sea is about death and memory. The author looks back on childhood as “the time of the gods”, a time of struggle to understand incomprehensible surroundings and mysterious people (adults). Several deaths frame the action. A pair of twins die when the author is vacationing with his family by the ocean. The story is narrated from the other end of life, just after the narrator’s wife has died (horribly) from cancer. 

The twins seem mythic – girl and boy, voluble and silent, normal (whatever that means) and abnormal (in contemporary terms, handicapped). The narrator seeks them out, fascinated by their upper class status and the vast differences between their family and his own. The twins’ deaths are incomprehensible, shocking, unexplained. Probably all death seems that way to a 13 year old. 

Enough detail is supplied to convince us that the wife’s death is brutal. The narrator, suffering, revisits the scenes of his childhood relationship with the twins and their family, without knowing why he does so. He drinks to excess, almost to death, and is pulled back into life by his companions – daughter, stranger and old, old acquaintance. 

Work makes this novel “work”? The writing is beautiful, and I don’t usually say this about authors whose vocabulary exceeds mine. The descriptions of people and settings are detailed and sensual. And the author “closes the loop”, linking beginning and end. Careful writing. I will look for other books by John Banville.