Hello Death, My Old Friend
The feeling I had the moment before I pushed this newsletter into the world is how I imagine Dr. Frankenstein felt when he finished the monster and was about to flip the switch.
When I FINALLY got back in the saddle this weekend, after six months of letting the This Is Getting Old field lie fallow (to my fellow neurotic and internally-driven creatives: it IS possible to resist the fake deadlines we set for ourselves and have it be a GOOD thing, even when we feel guilty!), I found blog notes I started months ago:
“I just watched myself clean the whole house in mental procrastination for the happy but huge task of getting my head back in the TIGO game. (Huge because it takes forever to remember my log in info, and how to use the various cartoon-creating, website updating, and audio-making applications). I vacuumed the floors, watered the plants, loosened the outdoor lighting that was cutting into a backyard tree, answered a Robo call from my son’s school that I usually let go to vmail, and cleaned out two gmail accounts (for HOURS) with the logic that I needed to resend* inspirational notes and resources. I did at least talk myself out of doing the bills first because the sun is setting, literally, and also figuratively setting on the elusive time I have — amidst work and family and self care — to focus on my labor of love.”
I’ll admit to also being distracted by preparation for the now-imminent arrival of a more-than-half-dead age that, in me, activated a cathartic tsunami of personal and professional housekeeping. Tearing through Twyla Tharp’s The Creative Habit — which should be on every “makers” bedside table — was one of those happy distractions (thanks for the exposure Alyssa!). So was the VERY validating experience of attending UVM’s End-of-Life Professional Certificate programs for pets and people.
Many of you, my friends and family, wonder why anyone would be so obsessed with death. The simple answer is: it appeals to my black and white side.
To reference Anderson Cooper’s podcast, which I’ll write about in my next blog (thanks for the hot tip Claire!), there are “when I die” and “if I die people” … and I DEFinitely fall in the first camp. In the same way that I have always enjoyed getting older, because it narrows the decisions I will have to make, I LIKE that death is definite, and reliable. We will ALL euphemistically “lose” loved ones (“ones” extending to animals, as well), and we will ALL die.
And, strategically, as someone whose father became unemployable when she was 10, having interest and abilities in death “work” helps alleviate (some) of my unresolvable job-security anxiety. Blame the German genes for over-indexing on creating order out of chaos (I am ironically paid to do that professionally): it always gives me GREAT satisfaction to tackle the crises that elder end-of-life and death often create. Which, let’s face it, has been in hot demand since the advent of Covid.
But despite not being outwardly active on TIGO, over the past six months I have been buoyed by my ongoing exposure to the earnest support and inspiring creativity of my designer and thought partner, Elizabeth Stillwell, who continues to tweak the site in kick-a** ways.
*Per the asterisk above, she laughs at me openly (‘oh, sweet summer child!’) for my propensity to capture on-the-fly ideas in individual emails which I then have to re-read and organize for hours. Hey man, Sedaris has diaries, Lamott has index cards … at least I have embraced the tech-age … ! :)
The result is renewed energy and clarity about continuing to offer wit, wisdom, and real-time resources via this newsletter, while letting go of adding and maintaining resources on the TIGO site. The reason is a good one: Anyone who immerses themselves deep and wide into the “death-positive” movement quickly realizes how many amazing people are curating the same great information, like Wendy Mullin’s Departing Dearly (thanks for sending, Erin!). Rest assured, a Best Hits version will always be available on TIGO, with Mullin’s creative offering and Caitlin Doughty’s cutting edge and comprehensive Order of the Good Death at the top of the list.
So! Having scratched my creative and educational itch, I am now ready to go back to the business of amateur eldercare expert advising. What I’ve noticed since I started TIGO three years ago is this:
There is absolutely NO shortage of resources and articles and books and radio shows and international role models and affordable Medicaid programs and at-home support and great or at least good-enough solutions for elders — AND — their adult children / caregivers don’t have the time or emotional bandwidth to become aware of them, or seek them out when needed most.
Case in point: since I last wrote, I was an eldercare crisis sounding board for my brother-in-law, two coworkers, and most recently a friend who was already juggling the fact of her mother’s hospitalization, only to learn an elderly cousin she care takes from a state-away had fallen and broken an ankle. The universe is said to only give us what we can handle. I think my friend screwed herself by going on a five day silent meditation retreat around the same time, because it meant she was grounded enough to be given a LOT of sh*t.
As to the Stranger eldercare Things in my OWN life …?
I got a little secret. Don't repeat it! Or tweet it! Grandma is still alive … !!!