Letters to the Editor

This letter is associated with the following article:
There are so many things I need to talk about, but he says not to get too emotional.
  • A few thoughts on death and discourse

    Wow. What a spectrum of responses. There’s clearly lots to which anyone could respond, but I’d like to simply throw in a question that the letter and subsequent commentary raised in my mind, and then offer two observations The question: I’m wondering why we elevate death to some unique status in terms of relationship considerations. There was frequent reference to this being “his death” and his right to do it how he wants. Perhaps. But why are the guidelines different for death than for life? What gives death – inevitable for us all – such a wide and inviolable interpersonal boundary? When we say “it’s his life”, we don’t impart with that comment license to disregard the impact of our actions and choices on people who care about us. We live in community. And we die in community. Maybe it would be OK to place death in the same class as everything else we do while here – a process or event that’s going to generate interactions in which everyone has responsibilities. My suspicion is that the custom of giving it such wide berth has more to do with putting a respectable spin on what is actually a deep-seated desire NOT to have to get close to death ourselves.

    The comments: First, many writers referenced “never getting over” a death. If what is meant by that is life never returning to what it was previously, they’re correct. But we are also generally hard-wired to move through losses. When we don’t, given sufficient time to do so, it’s known as complicated bereavement, and one should seek help. A colleague of mine once referred to life eventually “reconstellating” around what’s in it after a loss. The new orbit may never be the one we’d have chosen, but it becomes the one we’re in, and the loss is no longer an organizing focus. I’ve found that to be both comforting and true.

    Finally, I think what this whole discussion wonderfully demonstrates is the subjectivity of the realities we live in. One of the most critical lessons I’ve learned in my practice as a psychologist over many years is the importance of remembering that until I understand the frame in which someone has placed an event or perspective in their own lives, I cannot really understand what they’re talking about. What all these responses represent is, I believe, the multiplicity of frames the writers use to interpret LW’s letter - frames crafted from their own life experiences, expectations, and values, as well as their goals in responding. Clearly these include the disparate goals of communicating empathy, dispensing judgment, and pontificating, as well as joining honest discourse. Reading them then provides less of a lineup of varying perspectives on a simple theme than it does a glimpse into the complexity of human perspective itself.