My mother died at 94. She lived in pain for several years and had difficulty getting around, but she was as smart and sharp as ever. I was with her as she went through the process. She'd told me a few years before she died that she was ready. However, when she went to hospice, she cried. And then she concentrated on what she loved, her children. I was with her while she passed, talking to her and holding her hand. I think she left us feeling content.
My job, at 74, is to live fully. I'm not rushing around trying to accomplish a bucket list of events. Instead I do what I want as conditions and money allow. I enjoy sitting on my back porch in New Orleans, watching storms come through, or drinking my morning coffee while to birds and butterflies sing and dance across the trees and flowers. Friends and family mean a lot. Currently I'm back up north visiting my friends who have become part of my family and watching the leaves turn.
While I was raised a Christian, I don't worry about the afterlife. We live through heaven and hell on earth, so when the choice is mine, I pick heaven.
As for the process of dying, I have no desire to live through the prolonged pain of disease or dementia. But if the process is peaceful, I'll take it as I do everything else.
