You die like you live. I ran across this phrase on another hospice blog. Although it brings to mind Josey Wales saying, “Dying ain’t much of a livin, boy,” the phrase is likeable for its accuracy and usefulness.
Let me explain. We find that at the end of life, “Type-A” people are on top of every detail, discussing and controlling their symptom management. Laid back folks are often more passive.
I remember a patient, an engineer by trade, who exhaustively researched his condition. He charted his weight on graph paper. He discussed with me in great detail the physical therapy protocols for his weakened legs, made useless by cancer. In particularizing his illness he distracted himself from his feelings about his impending death.
Spirituality enters almost every dying persons conversation at some point during our time with them. And now I am wondering, is an individual who is at peace with God more psychologically and spiritually comfortable when facing death? I would think so, but, in knowing my humanness and weakness, I dont think I can predict what I or anyone will do when faced with death, something so psychologically imposing.
The blog that featured this phrase noted a usefulness for it. When people conduct vigils for dying loved ones who live several days longer than expected, they often ask “Why is s/he still alive?” The blog writer will respond, “Well, you die like you live,” to which the listener often smiles and says something like, “Yes, she always had the last word on everything.” See Teresa Yarborough’s nice post on http://alivehospice.org/blog/. Teresa’s words have been mighty to comfort and to explain.
But let me recount a story about death vigils that comes from the bestseller, “Same Kind of Different as Me.” Friends prayed round the clock as Debra Hall lay dying. One of the authors, Denver Moore, felt God telling him that Debra needed her friends to let her go. Their prayers were keeping her, as it were. So Denver broke up the prayers, and Debra left them to be with her Lord. This story is full of many words carrying a lot of power.
“In the beginning was the word, ” the logos, the universal explanation, the great, satisfying answer. Made in His likeness, we may speak with power. I often tell our hospice team that it is difficult to make sense out of what we do outside of an accurate framework: that we are created and loved, sinful and forgiven, followers of the One who conquered death, and sharers in His victory.
