The Reiki Blog

Death dinners. December 19, 2013

I just accidentally read the most amazing article. I’d clicked on yet another supremely depressing article about an aging Boomer living in a friend’s (bathroomless) basement in extreme poverty, while her 87-year-old father traveled around the world with his 70-something girlfriend, determined to “grab for all the gusto he could get” and to hell with his children’s suffering and deprivation.

The article interviewed the oblivious father at length, as well as his struggling daughter, who has multiple sclerosis and can’t afford health insurance; it was a horrific testament to selfishness and entitlement. As my own father remarked about a similar case much closer to home, “That man is thinking only of himself.”

At any rate, there was a link in the article to one about “death dinners.” Given the content of the article I’d just read, I wondered if this was the latest Boomer trend: When the money runs out, housing and health care are unaffordable, your parents couldn’t care less and your kids more likely than not assume you’ll be giving them a free ride throughout life, you gather together for a final feast, then drink the Kool-Aid.

Turns out, “death dinners” aren’t some group-suicide fad. But they are, apparently, a growing Boomer trend. The host invites a group of family, friends, or both to a festive dinner, during which everyone talks about death: their fears, their expectations, their preferred arrangements.

Given how few Boomers have wills, much less living wills, as bizarre as this idea sounds, at least it’s a step in the right direction. Maybe vocalizing their last wishes, or even seeing how many lives their death would touch, will act as a springboard to more concrete action.

End-of-life care is a serious issue, and one that I feel very strongly about after watching well-intentioned nurses force-feeding my nearly comatose mother ice cream as she feebly begged them to please stop. (It works the other way, too: A friend told me just last month that when her very ill 90-plus mother-in-law sank into a coma, her husband said there should be no heroic actions taken to revive her, given her quality of life at that point, at which she came out of the coma and told the stunned doctors that she wanted every possible measure taken to keep her alive at any cost.)

Needless to say, I have a living will. It simply says that, should something befall me that prevented me from functioning or communicating, that I want no extraordinary measures taken to prolong my life: no tube feeding, no surgery that would at best prolong my agony and that of those who care about me. But I also don’t want to feel thirst, to die like our Lord begging for water, so I added the proviso that I wished to remain well hydrated, through an IV if necessary, until life had left me. I also have an actual will, which, I confess, badly needs updating; that’s at the top of my post-Christmas to-do list.

Why am I mentioning death dinners, living wills and the like on my Reiki blog? Because of Usui Founder’s directives to those of us who follow the Reiki Way, encapsulated in his Five Reiki Principles (aka Precepts, Ideals). Thinking through end-of-life issues, leaving clear directions for those who love you and whom you may be forced to part with, not only reduces worry, it’s also a very concrete way of being kind and compassionate to yourself and others.

Just think how helpful it would be to your survivors if they knew if you’d like to be buried with full rites, or cremated with your ashes scattered on a site that holds special meaning to you, or given a green burial in a pine or cardboard box, unembalmed, with native wildflowers planted over your grave. Think what a relief it would be to you and everyone if your end-of-life wishes were crystal clear to everyone who might be involved. And think how kind and compassionate it would be to your survivors if you were to wrap up all the loose ends in a formal will. (Remember, in all these cases, you can always change your mind!)

Once the holidays are over and you’re looking at a new year, I’d strongly recommend that you give these issues your attention. I’m not suggesting that you throw a “death dinner”—what an idea!—but you and your heirs should have a very clear idea of your wishes, and they should be written down, witnessed, notarized, and distributed, so nobody’s taken by surprise (least of all you!) in the eventuality. At the very least, copies of your will should be in the hands of your lawyer and executor, and copies of your living will should be with them and any family members who might be involved in your end-of-life care, should such prove necessary.

You’ll have one less reason to worry while you live, and those you love and who love you will have less reason to worry, argue, and get angry when you die. I’m also a strong believer that making death—which, after all, is inevitable—an ordinary topic of conversation rather than a taboo is a great way of normalizing this universal experience, for children as well great-great-grandparents, and fitting it seamlessly into the vast and rich experience of human life.

Just for today, think of others.