This beautiful article in the New York Times is eliciting, as you can imagine, dozens of comments. So far, only a few are castigating the paper for the headline or for the mere idea of discussing death in such a personal way. But most people get it.
In a world where so much talk of death is abstract -- statistics, percentages, euphemisms like "casualties" and the shameful "collateral damage" -- it's moving to read an article where people face death head on, where they try to bring comfort to loved ones and maintain dignity for themselves. My father was lucky enough to die at home, with his family around him, and lots of laughter and partying up to the very end. (The fact that this was made possible by health insurance, Medicare, and hospice help is perhaps a discussion for another time.)
Here's a comment by a reader that I think gets to the heart of the matter:
I hope hospital physicians read this article. I am fully onboard with medical science and the great work doctors do each day. I am too aware, though, of cases such as where an 84-year-old person with a terminal disease is intubated, made completely miserable, and spending their last precious days in a horrible clinical environment by thoughtless physicians influencing grief-stricken family members, instead of respecting their preference to pass on in the comfort of their own home or chosen environment.
