A daughter’s wishes
- Sharing a parent’s added grief of not knowing their deceased child’s wishes
- Sharing the value of a discussion with my own daughter about her wishes
“What would your wishes be if you were to die tomorrow?” I posed to my daughter during a jog.
This is part two of a budding series about unexpected death. Last week I shared wisdom from a friend who helps people through grief. A common focal point of grief is wishing that feelings of love had been expressed during the last interaction.
We’re reasonably good at recognizing the need for estate planning so that our wealth transfer wishes are followed in the event of our unexpected death. But not so good at living that reality, which might mean saying “I love you” as parting words any time we conclude a visit or telephone discussion with someone we care about.
I promised a follow-up column, planning to share what came of asking my daughter about her wishes if she were to die unexpectedly.
I received a supportive e-mail from a reader:
“In 2010 we lost our son in a motorcycle accident and we were devastated. One of the huge issues we had to deal with was ‘what do we do now, I don’t know if he wanted burial or cremation?’ We made the decision to the best of our ability, but you always wonder if it was the right choice.”
Burial or cremation: one of a multitude of decisions that must be made on a loved one’s death. When making those decisions, we struggle with the impossibility of following unexpressed wishes. Doing right by them in their final wishes is our last opportunity to demonstrate our love.
I’m not going to face that impossibility in the exquisitely unlikely event that my daughter passes away unexpectedly.
No. I will be able to pour my grief into a challenging project to fulfill my daughter’s express wish that her ashes be placed in some sort of flexible pouch that is incorporated into a teddy bear!
I found memory bears online with a zippered pouch at the back to accommodate an urn, but nothing like her vision of a fully integrated, flexible pouch that would turn a teddy bear into something like a weighted blanket.
It would be a beautiful, huggable way to keep her close and give me a concrete way to channel my grief if the unthinkable happens.
Then the event – whether you call it a funeral, celebration of life or whatever.
I know exactly what she wants. I can “do right by her” and also avoid a bunch of decision making at a time I’m least equipped to make those decisions.
Pepperoni pizza from Boston Pizza. Sucks to be you if you’re a vegetarian or prefer ham and pineapple. Taylor Swift tunes will be playing.
No alcohol will be served or allowed. In fact, it will be just her beverage of choice: water.
It won’t be an open invitation. She wants only those who actually care about her coming. I’m one of the committee members who will make those decisions.
We discussed what she wants done with her savings. If she doesn’t get to the point of writing out a will, my wife and I as her default beneficiaries can follow through. Someone’s going to get help purchasing an engagement ring. A relatively new theatre company will be a key beneficiary.
I then asked about what to do with her stuffy collection and many other personal items. Again, thankfully unlikely that she will die first such that I’d have to deal with that but if I do, the impossibly difficult task of what to do with those treasures will be less difficult because of our discussion.
My daughter went on to share her “dying wishes”, which isn’t something that ever occurred to me.
She explained that dying wishes are binding. You would, of course, be bound as a parent, sibling or close friend to carry out dying wishes!
Her dying wish for me is that I continue on my relatively recent path of getting exercise.
How beautiful. What a gift for me to be able to use my grief as an added motivator for a healthy lifestyle.
I got a lot out of our discussion, beyond learning about her wishes. Facing the possibility, however unlikely, of my daughter’s untimely death helps with mindfully cherishing her. And sharing these thoughts brought us closer.
I recommend it!
