I suppose it’s a combination of things.

I have discussed some of this in other posts, but in case you’re new to my particular thought processes, allow me to recap:

a) I was born into a fundamentalist-Mennonite-Christian home.

b) As a result, I have been to an inordinate number of funerals.  Often the entire congregation would be invited to the funerals and weddings. There was usually a meal of buns, cheese, pickles and thin coffee in the church basement after both. This simple supper  was held after the wedding photos had been taken or after everyone had returned from the cemetery.  The plates were white with gold edges (which I think bordered on being vain…which was a big sin…so I’m not sure how that was allowed).

c) my mother listened to the CFVR funeral report every day on the bronze Philco transistor that sat by the sink. The funeral report came on right after the hog market report.

d) our photo albums were stuffed with photos of dead relatives in open caskets.

e) Day of the Dead has just ended.

f) like any good Mennonite I am prone to dark thoughts that I view as normal (I read somewhere that Mennonites have a higher-than-average rate of depression. I’m still looking for the source of that information, but I don’t doubt it for a minute. Seriously. Think about wearing black and having no chrome on your car…downer right?)

g) it rained this weekend and reminded me of the potential pending gloom of November.

h) my dad is turning 88-years old and spends his days sitting in a chair in the Menno Home in front of an always-on television. But because his macular degeneration has rendered reading an impossibility and his hearing cannot be fixed, he can’t even watch the news or hear the old Perry Mason episodes that he always enjoyed.

All this to say that I’ve been thinking about death. Thinking about how our culture doesn’t talk about it. How we institutionalize it and are shocked and indignant when it dares to visit our lives. I’m not sure where I stand on all these issues but I think getting it out of the closet is a good start. Death Cafe is one organization that has kicked the doors right off.

It’s also been heartening and interesting to hear the CBC discussions about end-of-life issues.

This weekend I heard of a new concept to me. It’s changing the language around the standard Do Not Resuscitate order to something called Allow Natural Death.

Some would argue it’s only semantics. But language tells us so much.

As Robin Gordon Taft, an advocate for AND, writes, “The differences in use of these two designations would be that the DNR would be appropriate for the otherwise healthy person in crisis who may indeed recover from that crisis. The A.N.D. would be the more appropriate choice for a terminally ill person or a frail elder who would choose to be allowed to die “naturally” but with treatment that emphasizes comfort.”

It’s a positive framework of words around a cold fact. But instead of the health-care provider feeling like they are not doing something, they are instead allowing the natural course of events. All while still caring for the patient with compassion and dignity.

Maybe the Mennonites were on the cutting edge of this stuff?

Excuse me while I rustle up a new black outfit for the day.