It’s The Little Things: How to Become Less Afraid of Death

7 min read

Today we explore the depths of human experience, and confront a subject that touches us all but often remains elusive in our daily discourse: death. We’ll discuss the profound journey of coming to terms with mortality and how our understanding evolves as we age. Stay with me as we unravel the mysteries of life's ultimate certainty.

Welcome to That's Life, I Swear. This podcast is about life's happenings in this world that conjure up such words as intriguing, frightening, life-changing, inspiring, and more. I'm Rick Barron your host. 

Now and then I find interesting information, a story or an interesting fact, while researching my next topic. While not a big story per se, it comes down to what I call, ‘it’s the little things that matter’. Going forward I’ll share these short segments from time to time with you and hope you’ll learn something from the episode, even if it’s a small little thing.

That said, here's the rest of this story 

You’re probably wondering why I would pick a topic such as death to discuss. Good question; the topic wasn’t on the radar screen for me. Let me come to the point of this story.

Recently, a neighbor of mine returned home to spend their final days with loved ones, and in a place, they felt with deep comfort. 

My neighbor always took trips to see their doctor for checkups and to me was a yearly checkup. What I was not aware of was that my friend had been making those numerous trips for good reason, they were diagnosed with cancer. 

Another data point that was brought to my attention was that they had been fighting cancer for the better part of 25 years, along with multiple degrees of cancer during that time period. 

They hid it very well. My neighbor, my good friend would come over from time to time to speak with my wife and I. Looking at them, the way they held a conversation, no one was the wiser with what they were dealing with at the time. They hid their secret very well.

Saying good-bye to a love one. Courtesy of: God In All Things

I can’t imagine what thoughts went through my friends’ head hearing the news the first time that cancer had entered their body. The weight of knowing they had this terrible disease must have been a heavy weight on their shoulders, not to mention a fog of utter despair. They must’ve looked at the future going from promise to now morphing into a void of deep depression.

Knowing what was ahead in their life, there must’ve been a long list of thoughts racing through their head. How will my love one’s fare without me? Will my spouse be strong and continue with life? 

I imagine it wasn't easy to see life going on as normal for most people for my friend. Feeling a sense of emptiness to watch people going about their daily lives, shopping, driving to work, or working in the garden; just watching others living without any worry. There was a moment when I think my friend wanted to shout out, ‘Hey, I have cancer, and there’s no cure for me.’

With a diagnose that your life was now altered, and you had no say in the matter would be a blow to anyone. Knowing this my friend must’ve felt every breath they took may be their last. That crushing weight of hopelessness had to have been immense. Their life was so vibrant and full of celebration, to now feel hollow and meaningless. The life they once had was now consumed fighting cancer, the ultimate abyss of illness.

It wasn’t until a few years ago, that the cancer treatments, such as chemotherapy, got to be unbearable and provided no relief to my friends’ misery.

Finally, the day arrived for my friend when they made a hard yet courageous decision. They decided that after many months, hours and days of chemo, and not seeing or feeling any relief, they told their doctor they had had enough. The side effects they were feeling outweighed any benefits they had hoped for. They told the doctor they wanted to go into Palliative care. 

This type of care is a integrative medical caregiving approach aimed at optimizing quality of life and mitigating suffering among people with serious, complex, and often terminal illnesses.

Coping with the endless rollercoaster ride of feelings of worrying, crying and shear exhaustion was over for my friend.

Looking at their life at this point saw no quality in life, only misery. There was no turning back the clock, only going forward in the manner they knew was all there was left. They told their doctor they wanted to go home and leave life in their own way. In short, my friend came to terms with death.

Again, knowing they went down this ugly road for 25 years was both sad and amazing for how they held themselves up in front of others. It was incredible.

It must have been a kaleidoscope of emotions to come to this decision of finality.

It was raining somewhat hard that Friday, when my friend returned from the hospital for the last time. They went to bed and were made comfortable as best as possible from the two care assistants. The rain continued throughout the night.

Looking outside from my living room Saturday morning, I could see the car the two care assistants drove,  parked in front of my house. They spent the entire weekend with my dear friend. The rain worsened during the weekend and with it came a wind storm that eventually caused the electrical power to come down for the next eleven hours. On Monday, I noticed the car the two care assistants drove in was gone.

My friend passed away that Sunday night after but two days at home, along with the power outage, the pouring rain, and the wind storm. The misery of living a life that no longer provided quality of living for my friend had ended.

Hearing the passing of my neighbor was sobering and reflective. I flashed back to the passing of my parents, who died two years apart. It’s hard to lose your parents but quite another to lose one's spouse. 

I thought about the moment my friend made that unequivocal decision to accept where they were in their life, and make that decision to say to themselves, it’s time. Absorbing that thought and think about how it had to have been the most impossible thought to ponder, I knew my friend felt reality’s hand was on their shoulder.  

What a crushing sense of deciding it was your time and coming to terms with your mortality, is utterly nerve wracking, and yet brave to accept.  

Not too many people can take that step. None of us know when we will die, but we know with 100% certainty that we will die at some time. Therefore, there is no point in fearing it - it is an event we eventually face. There is nothing you can do to change that, or to stop death from happening to you. 

It’s those little things we tend to overlook until the moment arrives.

What makes dying perhaps a little hard to deal with is being cheated out of the number of years one would live. In my mind, that is where it makes it hard to come to terms your time allotted to live has been cut short without you having a say in the matter.

People can come to terms with death as they age. A 2000 Report on meta-analysis found that fear of death grows in the first half of life, but by the time we hit the 61-to-87 age group, it recedes to a stable, manageable level.

The ability to live in the moment is something that brings older people a sense of calm. Such was my friend. Knowing their days would diminish as the cancer got worse, didn’t prevent them from living and still being around people and laughter. My friend had a hardly laugh, one you couldn’t miss nor not knowing who was doing the laughing.

My friend of thirty years taught me that if there’s peace to be had at the approach of death, it comes from knowing that the world you’re exiting is at least a bit richer than the one you found when you arrived.

Thank you, my friend, for showing how to be brave and face death without fear.

Before I close out this episode, allow me to share with you some words written by my wife regarding the passing of our friend. Very simple words but profoundly deep with feeling:

Our neighbor and our friend. How did you come to this end?

From Christmas to 4th of July celebrations, you were there with smiles and joyous participation.

You left us on Sunday during a violent winter rain and wind event, only to be surrounded by your family and loving husband God had sent

Oh neighbor, Oh friend, oh why, oh why.  

Your neighbors celebrate you and send you a loving goodbye

What can we learn from this story? What's the takeaway?

Though the pain may never truly dissipate, knowing one has a severe illness, such as cancer, becomes more unbearable with each passing day. Along with the chaos it brings, moments of clarity emerge, allowing for brief moments from the storm. It’s that moment from the storm to make a decision that was once considered impossible. 

Coming to terms with one’s life is filled with uncertainty, marked by peaks and bottomless valleys of emotion, yet it is a journey that one must be ready to review when it comes to the  quality of life. 

My friend made that decision and I’m sure it was a relief to them but painful at the same time.

Well, there you go, my friends; that's life, I swear

For further information regarding the material covered in this episode, I invite you to visit my website, which you can find on Apple Podcasts, for show notes calling out key pieces of content mentioned and the episode transcript.

As always, I thank you for the privilege of you listening and your interest. 

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