On the subject of her eventual and inevitable death, my mom has historically been avoidant or contentious. Other than “I want to be cremated and I don’t want a funeral,” it was hard to find out what my mom would like at the end of her life.

But on this visit, her retirement community was campaigning for 100% of residents to submit their end-of-life directives. I picked up the form from the ladies staffing the table outside the cafe. Mom and I took it back to her apartment, looked at her calendar, and wrote ‘Five Wishes’ on Wednesday.

On Wednesday, after clearing our crumby sandwich plates, I tightened as I pulled out the chair opposite Mom. We were at her teak dining table perpendicular to the eight-foot-wide sliding-glass door. Her chair at this table is one of her three locations: the table, the bed, or the wingback chair in the corner, with the footstool.

A few years ago, a storm took out three giant pine trees, and mom’s living room went from dark to dazzling. She keeps a small orchid at the end of the table next to the window and an at least 30-year-old jade plant on the floor. The jade grows horizontally, fitting into the space between the table legs and the window wall.

I picked up a pen and the document. The introduction describes Five Wishes as ‘the first living will with a heart and soul.’ Now that I’ve done it, I agree.

Mom answered the first several questions readily. She wasn’t testy. I relaxed, and we made our way through all eleven pages.

The process confirmed things I knew:

• I wish to have religious or spiritual readings and well-loved poems read aloud when I am near death. NO
• I wish to have the members of my faith community told that I am sick and asked to pray for me. NO

It revealed things I didn’t:

• I wish to die in my home, if that can be done. NO

We made a strike-through edit:

• I wish for my family and friends to know that I do not fear death. I think it is not the end, but a new beginning for me. am not sure what happens after death.

Some questions were fill-in-the-blank. When Mom didn’t know what she wanted to say, I suggested an answer:

• If anyone asks how I want to be remembered, please say the following about me: a farm girl who grew up and used her strong common sense to make a good life for herself     .

When Mom heard it, she said, “Oh, that’s good.” Some small tears came, but I tilted my head down so Mom couldn’t see. I don’t know if she cried or not.

We didn’t turn in the document, I have it. There is one question we no longer know the answer to, and Mom doesn’t know what she wants.

But I have an idea.

Follow-up From Last Week

Two dear readers sent suggestions for revisions/additions to last week’s post:

“The fabric of my sea anchor is woven from…”

From Nylda:

• a contemplative frame of mind
• paying attention always and everywhere
• a belief that all life matters
• reading beautiful and encouraging words
• the love of my friends and family
• making an effort to stay connected with others I cherish

From Randall:

• Deep breaths
• Actively cultivating gratitude (I call it doing the tudes)
• Taking action—making calls to senators, giving money to a cause I believe in, etc.
• Trying not to let the thoughts spiral

I liked these suggestions and thought you would, too.

Chewing the Cud of Good

Thankful for memories worth holding on to.