A friend’s mother-in-law was dying. She knew that death was imminent and she had made her wishes clear: no heroic measures. She was ready to go and she didn’t want her life unnaturally prolonged.

And yet, she didn’t die. Day after day passed and she remained in the ICU, comatose, in critical condition. Her doctor was baffled. Other patients in far better condition had passed on in spite of all his efforts to save them. In her case, he was doing nothing extraordinary and still she clung to life. He couldn’t explain it.

My friend had a hunch. She knew her mother-in-law was worried about her daughter. She had just gone through a difficult divorce and was now coping with life as a single mother. There were financial worries as well as emotional ones and my friend sensed that her mother-in-law’s anxieties were perhaps deeper than she had expressed.

One evening, she decided to speak openly to her. She told her sister-in-law her intentions and with her blessings, she sat by her mother-in-law’s bed and told her to relax. This elderly woman was in a coma and completely unresponsive but my friend poured out her heart, promising that both she and her husband would be there for her daughter, that she had nothing to worry about – they would take care of her.

Shortly after, she left her bedside to go home – telling her husband and her sister-in-law that she would be back a few hours later.

She had not even reached the lobby of the hospital when she got a call from her husband asking her to come back. His mother had slipped away.

That was six months ago. Last night, another friend’s mother died, after a similar month-long vigil. She had suffered horrific burns in a freak accident and had been in enormous pain. She had begged her children to kill her, pleaded with them to let her die and the doctors assured them that it wouldn’t be long, that there was nothing they could do given the extent of her injuries.

And yet, she, too, did not die.

Two days ago my husband, remembering the story of my friend’s mother-in-law, took our friend aside and asked him if, perhaps, his mother was worried about something, if she had some secret anxiety, some hidden fear.

And though the two women could not have been more different (one highly educated, independent, wealthy; the other from a remote village in the Himalayas, poor, unable to make a decision on her own), it turned out their concerns were exactly the same: what happens to my child when I am gone?

Our friend’s mother was worrying about her youngest son: her favorite. And her least mature. Would her other sons do him out of his inheritance? Would he be able to make a living in their village, their ancestral home?

Once he understood the problem, our friend was able to address it. He assured his mother that her fears were groundless. He promised her that he and his elder brother would look after the younger one, that everything would be shared, that the family ties would not break with her passing.

Two hours later, she died.

Lesson One: If someone you love is dying but not letting go: help them. Ask them what they are worrying about. Reassure them that you will be there to help solve the problem. Don’t assume the problem is a medical one. Emotions are powerful forces that can change the course of an illness and stop a freight train in its tracks. People sometimes need to give themselves permission to pass away. Help them cross over.

Lesson Two: Deal with your own anxieties right now. Every day, starting this moment. Don’t carry them with you to your death bed. Speak your mind. Voice your fears. Share with your children, your spouse, your dear friends. We hold too much inside, assuming that no one will understand, fearing that there is no one who can help us through to the other side. It’s not true. We are all in this together and whether we live in a big city or a tiny village, we are, essentially, the same.

Reach out to the ones you love. Tell them what you need. Remind them what you can give. We are all here to learn how to die. Let’s help each other to do it.

 

Showing 7 comments
  • Natasha Badhwar
    Reply

    typing through my tears…thank you, Jo.

  • Patti Harney
    Reply

    Beautiful story and good advice; I agree with all of it. It was such a blessing to share in Allan’s death and see how he handled it with such grace and wisdom. Death is such an intimate time to be with someone you love, I am so happy I was there to help him let go and transition over to his peace. I know he felt honored by me for being there for him and helping him believe that we would be okay without him. He told me that my kids would be ok, and when I asked him, “What about me?”, he said, “You? You are my rock, you are the strongest person I know.” And I really am okay. Even though I still cry every day, he was right. In the end, all we have is LOVE.

  • Charu
    Reply

    That’s a very practical piece of advise…mothers being what they are live their lives for their children and it’s difficult for them to leave the child in a difficult situation and go .’What after me?’is a common thought in their heads if a kid is in some sort of trouble.Somehow a mother forgets that God is the power who would take charge when she is not there……

  • Rohit
    Reply

    I think it’s not fair to naturalize the way mothers, or for that matter any human being, think. It’s sad that they think this way, if at all they do. I think we need to change this mindset. We need to believe in our children more than being worried about. Worry is only if we haven’t done our job, as parents, right.

  • Anita , EKansh
    Reply

    Remembering how the last thing my nana said to my nani [maternal grandparents] was that he’d marry her again in their next lives…and take good care of her. She took his hand and held it up against her forehead and closed her eyes…when she looked at him again, he had slipped into a coma and passed away within an hour.

  • Vinita Sithapathy
    Reply

    I wish I had the courage to speak to my dad and share his worries when he passed away… I think he died peacefully but not without his share of anxieties. I worried about his impending death and tried to run away from facing it. I think in the process i lost precious time that I could have spent with him. It is sad how we are never taught to face a loved one’s death. Even talking about it isn’t considered normal in our society.

  • Durrain
    Reply

    & I wept :(

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