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Not the Last Word

There are times in one’s life when things seem to happen all at once and you wonder what’s going on. The events of the past few weeks have left me with a lot of food for thought.

The first event was the decision by friends of mine to end their beloved pet’s life. The second, a book being written about a friend who had chosen Medically Assisted Dying or MAID and died a year ago, and then a letter from another friend whose mother also chose MAID and died this past week.

Each of these deaths has impacted me and left me with a mixture of emotions; everything from sadness to anger and even fear.

The death of the beloved pet was a difficult choice for my friends but at the same time it had been a merciful end to a life of illnesses and pain. Dotty was a rescue mutt and had had medical problems for most of her 12 years. The Vet had indicated her days were numbered and rather than have her spend those in pain they chose a painless end.

My other friend chose MAID after years of cancer and painful sometimes debilitating treatments that proved unsuccessful. She wanted, she said, to die on her terms and so she did.

The last death was the choice of another friend’s 95 year old mother, a woman I have known and loved for fifty years. Treatments for her cancer had become unbearable and she had told me before she even made the decision for MAID that she was ready to go.

I am still sorting through my feelings and my reactions as I write this. The pet’s death was a reminder that this choice could be mine relatively soon as I watch my beloved dog Luca struggle to climb stairs and jump curbs. And I suddenly find myself being far more attentive to him out of the fear of that loss.

I had a rocky relationship with my friend who died last year. The proposed book about her life, to which I have been asked to contribute, has meant a rehashing of old and far from healed wounds and a feeling of anger that has surprised me. Obviously what I thought was water under the bridge is not. Seems I have some work to do here.

My friend’s mother’s death is somewhat easier to accept but at the same time I will miss seeing her and hearing her voice on the phone. Margaret was a wonderful soul and her daughter has been looking after her for a number of years. Her death will have a huge impact on my friend’s life not the least of which will be the empty house.

In one sense I have been at a distance from each of these deaths and yet each has brought on emotions that have surprised me. I am fearful of loss in one sense, angry at unresolved issues in another, and yet grateful for having known each and every one of them.

As a close friend once said:

“Death does not have the last word.”

I am beginning to think that there is a lot more to that expression than meets the eye and I am anxious to learn what that might be. Writing this blog has helped clarify some of it. But I know there is more. There’s always more.

Bonnie Dickie lives in Winnipeg, the Elm capital of Canada. In a previous life she worked for CBC in Yellowknife, NWT before moving South to freelance as a documentary filmmaker. Her work has taken her across the Arctic as well as China, Africa and Spain. Today she is semi-retired and aside from her dog walking exploits is focused on learning to play the ukulele-a talent she has yet to fully grasp.

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Patricia Orban
1 year ago

Thanks Bonnie for your heartfelt sharing on death…death does not have the last word. It is only a passage …💖

1 year ago

Looking into the eyes of death is, as they say, “a character building experience”. Thanks for sharing something of your experience in grappling with this great teacher.