On Death and Dying

Dee Dee had a rough birthday this year. On Sunday, she turned 89. As always, she was surrounded by loving relatives. Dave and Billye flew in from California, and Lisa and the boys came in from Chicago. She got the traditional singing and sirens at Happy Joe's Pizzeria.

But all was not well with her soul. A few nights ago (Friday night), she started writing notes like crazy. She was especially restless. In the morning, she told Michele that she had a premonition from God that she was going to die the next night. She spent a lot of the day crying Saturday.

Michele and Diane took her out to lunch that day at Lion's Choice. While they were eating, an ambulance drove by, but Dee Dee didn't comment on it.

Later, when they got home, Dee Dee mentioned "Did you see what happened at Lion's Choice?"

"What was that, Dee Dee?"

"That ambulance? It stopped and picked me up. I'm dead."

"I didn't see that part, Dee Dee."

"Yeah, well, it happened in a split second."

Dee Dee could not be convinced that she wasn't dead. Only hours later, after she'd had dinner with a bunch of kids and grandkids and great-grandkids, did she acknowledge that maybe she isn't dead.

Michele had a talk with Dee Dee that night, prompted by Dee Dee's concerns about how she was raised in the Catholic church, and if you ever go to another church, even just to visit, you're kicked out of the Catholic church. Michele had a good opportunity to share the basic gospel message with Dee Dee, which apparently greatly relieved her. Michele's not sure how much sunk in, but Dee Dee thought it was literally "good news!"

Still, Michele and I slept a little lighter than normal that night. Isn't that how all the stories you hear turn out? The crazy person says something is going to happen, nobody believes them, and then it turns out to be true?

She seemed pretty good for a couple days, although she still cried a couple times. She told us, "Well, when you're turning 90, it's pretty emotional." (She's continually disappointed when we remind her that she's only 89)

Last night, around 12:30 a.m., Michele found Dee Dee in the kitchen, writing again. The note read something like "I didn't want to spoil anyone's night or wake anyone up, but I'm going to die peacefully in my sleep tonight." She'd apparently had another premonition.

So that's where we are today. In a lot of ways, talking about death can be healthy. Part of our consternation about all this death-talk is just our own fear of Dee Dee dying. I know she's going to die someday, but I don't want her to talk about it.

But it's still disturbing to see her so delusional, to confuse death with being alive, to get premonitions from God, to imagine ambulance rides that never happened.

And of course, it's tough to watch Dee Dee be so sad.

Some of you have heard me comment that my goal in this family is to keep the kids laughing, and to keep Michele from crying. Now I'm amending it to "... and keep Michele and Dee Dee from crying."