Finding Grace in Choosing to Die

There's been a lot of news this week about a 29 year old woman's choice to die on her own terms instead of waiting for her brain cancer to cause her pain, suffering and ultimately kill her.

I've been thinking a lot about her choice, for which I have the utmost respect. I do not know what I would do if I were in her shoes. I pray I never need to make that type of decision.


Death is not a fun topic to discuss. Even S and I haven't drawn up our wills, not because it's not important - it is - but it makes us sad to think about dying and who and what we'll someday (hopefully a long, long, long time from now) leave behind. So we put it off. We sweep those sad thoughts under the rug. At some point, we'll be confronted with needing to clearly lay out our wishes for when we die. I don't look forward to that day, but it will happen.

Now this young woman was told she will die. And her death will not be without pain and suffering, which she is already experiencing. And she's scared. And she's sad. But she has the ability to choose to end her life and not experience as much pain and suffering. She is choosing to live the days she knows she has left, and when she's ready, she will die.

I do not think she is selfish. I do not think she is committing a crime. She said herself that she's not suicidal, and she doesn't want to die, but she is in fact dying, so she is making the decision to die on her own terms.

It's not anyone's job to try to change her mind, or tell her she's wrong. It's our job to support her, pray for her and her family to feel peace and heal their hearts that are no doubt hurting immensely in the days ahead. I imagine there is some feeling of peace and grace when one comes to a decision like this, and from there, the gift of freedom, to spend your days doing whatever the heck you want, loving your family and friends and finding strength and fortitude in a time when your body is becoming weaker and weaker.

I read another article this week about a piano teacher who was entering hospice care, and how she chose to spend her last days. What comforts me about the thought of dying is that life seems to become simple and clear. No more worries or fear of the unknown, just giving as much love as you can before you're on to the next thing, whatever that is.

So when confronted with the thought of death, and leaving this world and the people we love and care about, how can we infuse that grace and fortitude into how we spend our days right now? Most of us don't know when we'll die. The only certainty is that at this moment, we're here.

And we have the choice of how we decide to live.

Taken the morning of July 4, 2010 in Split Croatia.