Our friends have chosen the day they wish to depart.  Through the assistance of MAID, they will be leaving this realm at the end of the month. We behave like they are planning to move. Which in essence they are. We tease as a distraction to what is happening by referring to it as ‘when you check out’.  The reality of their truth is only now starting to hit home.

The pre-planning of death has numerous facets. Wills need to be in place, utilities need to be notified, investments need to be transferred, accounts need to be closed. The house needs to be purged and sold. The cat needs to find a new home. It is demanding. We have spent a lot of time with our friends doing our best to minimize these stresses so that they may enjoy their last days here.

As family and friends are notified that there will be no more events attended by them as of this spring, emotions vary and are raw. Understanding their decision fluctuates with each person. I have had my moments. I wanted this year to be one with no more losses and their intentional planning messed that up. A reminder that life is rarely about oneself. I don’t want them to go.  We have had over thirty years of laughter and shared experiences. These two are more like family than friends.  They are aunt and uncle to my children. They are our go to for a martini and wine. And yet, they will be gone soon, and I know this. It is planned.

It is not a sudden death that throws you into grief.  It is anticipated which drags you, kicking and screaming to grief. And their decision is not about having a terminal illness or having endless pain, conditions that justify the desire to let your loved ones go. It is a personal decision they have made that their health and quality of life is not where they want to be, and it will only get worse. Thus, their choice. I get it. I am supporting them. It just doesn’t make it any easier.

The double edge sword of anticipatory grief is time. It is complicated because it holds promise and opportunity.  One has time to plan the remainder of life on earth and the hereafter with focus. One has time to have more. More conversations, more memories, more hugs, more dinners. This is the comforting side, knowing that death will soon be here we become more intentional. The other side is less friendly.

Anticipatory grief makes us anxious; it is the taunting knowledge that time will soon be gone. This type of grief makes it difficult to focus on daily tasks that now seem mundane but are necessary. It brings the anger and sorrow of loss to hang over the last memories you are cramming in before they go. It brings with it a different type of guilt, a nervousness of is there enough planned, what else can be done, said, experienced before they depart. Grief is exhausting. Anticipatory grief can be double exhausting because, although I am grateful that I do have more time with my friends, I carry with me the agony of knowing, with each minute, that there is coming a point where there will be no more time. Two more of my tribe will no longer be.  I can’t do anything about it.

I try to balance this madness by keeping busy doing little tasks for them that comfort them. I call them more often, visit them more often, ask more questions and share ideas of how we will honor them. We sort through photographs of past times and laugh at the “remember when…”

Our recent visit, my friend hugged me and tearfully said, “this is so hard, but I know that it is the right thing to do”. His strength found in his belief gives me the strength to keep showing up and to continue making memories with them that I will carry with me long after their final sunset.