The Box...How Death Birthed a Gift

At 5:25 PM on Friday, May 10, 2013, my mother breathed her last breath. Five weeks prior, we were seated in an exam room. Her physician entered, and with casual emotion, delivered the news that her test results confirmed a terminal diagnosis. Our initial reaction was that of shock and lifealtering fear.

After the initial shock, stabilization set in. I watched my mother lead the way to teach us how to die with honor and dignity; how to live until we die.

Mom spoke candidly about her impeding death. She gathered her friends and family, and gave them the opportunity to say farewell as she prepared to die. She put first their needs, both physical and emotional. She was vulnerable, and shared that vulnerability through tears. And, she laughed, often making light of what was to come, and expressed her eagerness to be joined with her husband, my dad, who had died 30 years prior. I watched her journey unfold.

Mom called in the professionals to handle the legal, financial, and spiritual aspects of her departure. They updated her Will, structured her assets to transfer seamlessly after death, and prepared her to face her mortality—to reach for the hand of God when extended. It was as if she was going on a trip and mastered each detail. I witnessed her preparation.

Mom’s idea was to have The Box. The Box was one central depository that housed important next of kin, “next step” documents. It included her Will, bank statements, insurance policies, tax forms, home and car titles, credit card statements, letter of post-death wants and desires for her body, wake, and funeral. Looking back, it was a gift to receive such preparation by her. With gratitude, I accepted her final gift to me.

Then, Mom’s transition began, just three days prior to her death. Mom lost the ability to walk and to swallow. Her body no longer required nutrition or hydration. If given, they could have served to complicate the dying process. Her body had completed its time on earth and serving her.

Since the sense of hearing is believed to be the last to leave a dying person, I talked to her constantly during the last days of her life. I expressed my love to her, told her I would be okay after she died, and gave her my permission to die. I empowered her to die.

Mom did it right and without a handbook. In my 20 years as a hospice volunteer, I had not previously witnessed such an end-of-life display of grace and preparation. As a result, and with every cell in my body, I felt empowered to educate others on the opportunity to prepare well for what we will all do— breathe our last breath.

Those five weeks from diagnosis to death empowered my career change: from Attorney to Death Doula. I am committed to educating others on the death and dying process. As a Death Doula, my responsibilities include being present and aware with my patients as I work independently or in partnership with hospice. I have the honor of empowering my patients to live their last days well, to fill The Box with information that will streamline the winding down of the estate, and to die with confidence and peace.

Here’s to accepting that the window of life is always closing. We each have a choice to be open to what calls us. For me, it was the extraordinary and amazing manner that my Mom accepted her death, which helped lead the way to my new path in life.

Joni Marra, a life-long learner, retired as an attorney and started her wellness practice, Inward Bound. She received her Death Doula certification through the International Doulagivers Foundation, based in New York.