This is what I know
Death comes for us all, eventually.
We all know this. But that doesn’t make it any easier to lose someone.
When I was 8, my father died in a car accident. He was killed by a drunk driver on New Year’s Eve. I don’t remember much from that time, other than writing “I love you daddy” on the funeral home’s business card and putting it in the casket with him.
Since then, death has stayed close to me.
A friend in 8th grade died by suicide. The summer before 9th grade, my brother-in-law died after surgery. In late 2017, my sister died in her sleep. Six months later, my brother died from cirrhosis of the liver. The following month, my mother died from dementia. Around that same time, my dog of 12 years had to be put down unexpectedly. It was a brutal six months. Then in 2020, my mother-in-law died. Although her health had been declining, her death was still unexpected, and she hadn’t made any estate plans.
Through all of this, I felt mostly numb. I went through the motions of handling arrangements. Except for my sister, who was married, I handled everyone else’s arrangements myself.
Some were simpler than others. My grandfather had purchased my mom’s plot, so I only needed to get her to Kentucky and choose a casket. My brother’s situation was entirely different. He spent three months in the hospital and didn’t have a living will. I was the only one who could make decisions for him. Would he want a feeding tube? Experimental treatment? When do we call hospice? I lived in a constant state of anxiety, just trying to do right by him.
When he died, I had to guess what he would want. I believed he’d want to be cremated and have his ashes spread in the ocean. So that’s what we did.
No one wants to talk about death. But it’s a necessary conversation.
When people don’t make their wishes known, someone they love has to guess during the most painful moment of their life. Do you want to be buried or cremated? A mausoleum or burial at sea? There are so many options now, and without clear guidance, those decisions fall on grieving shoulders.
Having your wishes laid out is one of the kindest gifts you can leave behind. I say that from experience.
During those years, my friend Jackie, who works in the funeral industry, was a lifeline. Each time I got the call, she was the next person I called. She helped arrange my mom’s flight to Kentucky, coordinated my brother’s cremation, and made sure things were handled when I had no capacity left. Her support mattered more than she probably knows.
At one point, I even worked in the funeral industry myself. That experience, combined with everything I’ve lived through, made one thing very clear to me: everyone should preplan. If paying for it isn’t an option, at least record your wishes through a living will and basic estate planning. It can be done online and relatively inexpensively. It eases emotional stress and often makes sense financially too.
So even though I no longer work in the industry, I still want to encourage you: have the conversation. Tell your loved ones what you want.
And if you don’t know where to start or need help figuring it out, I’m happy to point you in the right direction.
Tomorrow isn’t promised.
XO,
Lory