‘Let’s talk about death, baby’

Mansur's Musings

By Aliyah Mansur

'How They So Softly Rest:' Burial customs, past and present
Lindsay's Riverside Cemetery. Contributor Aliyah Mansur suggests that we need to have more frank and open conversations about death. Photo: Ian McKechnie.

This month my mind is preoccupied with death. Not strictly my own, but the general topic of “end of life” and how little we talk about it as a society. I mean, death is all over the news, every day someone somewhere is dying. But aside from headlines telling us who died when and where, we don’t get to communally process how it makes us feel, what death means to the dying or the people who are left behind. And given we have our own headline about death in this very issue of The Lindsay Advocate with our feature on medical assistance in dying (MAiD), I figured why not start the conversation here.

We all experience death and dying, whether it’s the death of someone we know or our own. So, why isn’t this something we learn about in school? We have sex education, but no death education — and, arguably, sex is not a guaranteed or universal experience, just ask a nun. “But what would a death curriculum look like?” you might be wondering. My mind goes to some of the more practical elements like how to prepare a will, the cost of funerals and how different cultures throughout the world prepare for and cope with death (cue the book The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning). A robust curriculum would also cover the stages of grief and how to support people who are grieving.

By the time I turned 25, I had already been to 10 funerals. Some were family, some were friends, and for some I was there as support. The ages of those who died ranged from infants, young adults, middle-agers, all the way to a near-centenarian. Causes of death ranged from car accidents, cancer, birth-complications, old age, suicide, addiction, to a completely unpredictable aneurism. I’ve seen the people left behind go numb, unable to say a word, cry and scream, celebrate a long life, and every reaction in between. I’ve been offered condolences and apologies and have been told “let me know if you need anything.” Often these words come from those who have yet to experience the death of a loved one. For those of us who have, we understand there is nothing that can be done but to hold space for whatever emotions and behaviours are coming. To give grace and love. One of the best practical offers of support was food, especially when cooking meals and generally caring for oneself while grieving can feel impossible.

No two people respond the same way to someone in their life dying. That’s why I think it’s important to talk about the specifics because it’s the specifics that help people feel seen. Knowing someone has experienced the death of not just a family member but a parent or child or cousin and by means of accident or age or sickness, these details change the type and amount of support we may need and from who we need it most.

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