Discussing death is a bit of a weird thing, not uncomfortable to do, but it is less of a normal conversation than it probably should be. I have spoken to hundreds of people about their understanding, experience and attitudes when it comes to the final stage of a life. We can talk about it from afar, when it seems like a distant future, or a distant past. However, when the grief, hollowness and sense of loss is still familiar, almost tangible, it is a far more difficult conversation to have.
In my efforts to explore and understand why we manage death so poorly and my drive towards making death a bit better, I have had to tread carefully and perhaps I haven’t got it right every time. There is a need to talk about the emotions, discombobulation and panic that can be felt at the moment of an unexpected death, to bring to the fore what occurs and what we might expect when we find ourselves in this inevitable situation.
Death, like life, is always a unique experience, with endless variables. However, what is consistent is the emotional turmoil that is experienced, be it the person themselves or those that are witness to these experiences. Death is a confronting and confusing time, we are all changed by it, one way or another.
The report commissioned by the Violet Initiative “Too little, too late” states there are nine people bereaved for every person in Australia that dies. It is estimated 402,000 people will die in 2040 - that is a hugely significant number of bereaved people, each dealing with the sadness, regret, confusion and conflict that is so often left in the wake of a person's death.
The days that follow death are surreal. They seem long, but they move by very quickly. Someone you loved is dead and you need to call people, organise things, sign documents, make decisions about things you didn’t know and with a sense of consensus.
In the weeks that follow, you find yourself in a bit of a daze, people are moving on with their lives and some days you are too. Then you find yourself thinking of things you wish you’d done, said, known and the sadness creeps in quickly and before you know it you have burst into tears in the middle of the supermarket.
The days turn to weeks, turn to months and still you are managing the vacancy this person has left in your life. More often now, when you are speaking about them it is a transactional conversation, about what they owned, used, paid for. The life of the person you love has come down to a process called probate and the administrative duties that one needs to complete to “close” someone’s life in the simplest way possible.
The period that follows death can be many things, all at once. It can be a great time of reflection and reconnection with calls and messages from your friends and those of your loved one. Fond memories and funny stories, happy tears. It can be a time of disillusionment, with unknown rifts coming to the surface, selfish thoughts and acts that often rear their ugly head during a grieving period. Too often it is a period of burden, fatigue and mental stress that continues for months, while you seek the answers to the transactional questions and requirements, feeling guilty that you are angered by this process and regret that you hadn't sorted some of this stuff out while they were still around.
Death is an inevitability, as is the sadness that will come with it. There is simply no way to mend or remove the overwhelming sense of loss. However, I do believe there is a way to reduce the sense of regret and guilt that is so often part of the death and dying process. So as I run headfirst into developing Adios, to make death just a little bit easier for us to manage, I acknowledge those that are still in the midst of their grief and dealing with this burden. I appreciate that through their experiences and mine, the conversations and observations that I have had the privilege to be part of, nobody gets it right all the time, but we try and that is what matters most.
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