Undoubtedly, every dying experience is unique and we can’t really envision the experience until we arrive exactly “there”.  I want you to know that my current experience, waiting to progress to hospice and death, is not frightening, instead it is amazing!

As you know I am no longer taking visitors, just simple electronic goodbyes. I live with family; my needs are all met, my day’s quiet space, peaceful interactions, books and music. I seem to decline each day but the path is uncertain, as a family we just adjust, maybe a week, maybe months? All ok, all accepted seamlessly.

Inside, I am so very calm, it amazes me!  For some reason I do not have fear. When, how, where will I go, what will happen…don’t enter. I am totally content with the dying process, simply trusting death as one of the most certain and sacred passages.  Honestly, I can’t cobble together a “why me” story. As my mind floats and connects all I can find is gratitude. As I lose physical and cognitive function my heart grows for those who live a lifetime with these struggles. Me, what a gift, always strong, coordinated in body and mind, never understanding how fortunate I was. Gifts! My life has been rich and full, easy, alive. Absolutely no regrets are possible; I gladly grant others my “robbed” years to help find their opportunity to open into this space.

Nothing is pulling me forward either.  No rush for heaven, ultimate love, seeing loved ones. I simply trust and don’t feel a need to “know”, no reward or escape planning. Instead, I experience a peaceful float, gently rocking with insights and loving connections, slowly making my way to the other side.  

Maybe the hardest thing is for all of us to accept is the physical loss. My tears are fewer now, but the grief of letting go stays close to my heart, especially letting go of my kids, this continues to hurt, but of course it does.  We accept the tears when they come, but mostly the kids are moving with me in a beautiful, accepting and grateful way. 

I am hoping with this update that you too will find a way to hold me in your heart space forever, to laugh and share, to carry our words and time together forward. I know I am asking you to do this alone with no rushing in, but ultimately that is the task.  Moving toward eternity, to carry loved ones forward in your heart and choices, forever changed, spreading the love and connections back through the world. 

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I'll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase "each other"
doesn't make any sense.
--Rumi

For me, this dying is about  living a paradox. Both being attached to the immediate world and letting go at the same time.  Grief is always close, spilling over when acknowledging the letting go of my kids, loved ones and loved life. I don't want to push the grief out, it is precious and I accept it as my companion on the journey. At the same time I am sailing a beautiful boat home. In the quiet of my mind, moving away from hectic social living, the experience is expansive and superb, a close up transformation, something near impossible to see from afar. Being so present I see and feel profound understanding and gratitude, a beautiful experience of grace. The view is softer and more balanced, it draws me in.

I realize my perspective is uniquely mine, and not common, but it is good. With death I realize there is a strong human desire to rush in and do, as a gracious act of love. I did the same. I write these words to reassure you that I am better than fine, Content. I need very little, I have learned to ask for what I need and it is working well.  I appreciate the notes and letters and space that allows the magic to work. THANK YOU.

Sad news and a little hope. I was admitted to the hospital Thursday afternoon with severe headache and loss of function in my left hand. a brain MRI showed cancer lesions in my brain. hydration and steroids rid me of the headache, drooping face and mumbling. i have also started a 5 day treatment of whole brain radiation to reduce brain swelling and related impact to other body functions. The hope is that i might get a few more months at home. Success is dependent upon whether we can control the cancer in my body. My current drug Keytruda is the long shot hope of slowing overall progression( pain is down... but scan still shows growth...? next scan Sept 11.

This latest development brings me closer to hospice. i can no longer drive, I'm at risk for seizure and additional stroke-like events. The radiation will fatigue me and obviously I will be staying closer to home. i may have some energy for quiet goodbyes but my circle will be closing down, especially when i shift to hospice care. My time in hospice will be short and open only to the close family and friends who have been my main support, we've been growing together toward this sacred place for over a year.
Don't feel closed out, feel free to email and text me.