In her columns, our collaborator Nathalie Plaat calls for your stories. In “It’s All in the Way,” she asked you bluntly how you feel about your death. The “News from you” section provides excerpts from your responses.
Foglia wrote: “Man lives as if he had eternity before him. » Obituaries have always fascinated me and, at the same time, saddened me. They are increasingly automated, written by the funeral home, soulless… at most, a list of names.
So I wrote my obituary five years ago. I made it a tribute to my life, to this gift that life is! I have written and read tributes so many times for loved ones and friends when they have passed away; so I took care of mine and took great pleasure in it.
I want to succeed in my exit. Bringing beauty into this darkness. I love words and the French language. So who can talk better about me and my life than myself? The songs are also chosen; the list is revised regularly. The location for the party has yet to be determined, but it will be somewhere meaningful to me, especially not in a funeral home.
So death exists. By searching the obituary of The Press daily, I confirm that death is real and that my turn will come, but at the same time… sometimes doubt persists, even today. It’s completely crazy, I know that!
In September 2022, at age 70, I was diagnosed with aggressive Triple-N breast cancer. I screamed, convinced of my certain and imminent death, only the date being unknown. A year later, while I am undergoing preventive chemotherapy treatment, life is slowly returning to power, but the idea of death accompanies me every day. She’s not my friend yet, but I accept her presence.
Thinking about death brings me back to the beauty and good that surround me. Thinking about death brings me back to the essential, to the true, to the touching.
Thinking about death makes me draw up a list of places to discover, of escapades to take.
Thinking about death takes me back, to what was, but above all to the links woven on this journey of life so precious to my heart.
But thinking about death also makes me understand that I will have to leave my daughter, my Unique, my Exceptional, and also her faithful four-legged companion whom I adore and who makes me feel good, that I will also leave the man of the almost For the last 25 years, the man who loved me best, from a distance (I live in Montreal, he in Quebec) and who, in this last year, accompanied and supported me admirably. It is by thinking of these beings that I realize that I am not ready to die and that a lot of work, in my head but especially in my heart, remains to be done to accept this ultimate detachment.
Decisions relating to the “practical” side of death are almost all established. I still have to determine what will be done with my body. I have always wanted to donate organs. My loved ones have been informed. But it is impossible to bequeath your body to science if you first donate your organs. So I’m thinking about it before redoing my will. If I am lucky enough to see death coming, I would like to welcome all my precious allies to my bedside, have one last conversation and allow them to leave with an object, a book… Give away my possessions, get rid of everything before death. great departure !
I’ve thrown a lot of parties and get-togethers in my life; for my birthdays, but also those of others… The pandemic and illness have thwarted my plans in recent years. So I want to make this last party a success. I want it to be touching, too, joyful and filled with love… but as distant as possible. For me first, for my daughter also; spare him all these details and difficult tasks, free his head and his time to better take care of his heart, his pain, and celebrate his mother’s life and a little his own, too!