On Wills and Things
(Please and Thank You – Redux)
When my father died after a protracted illness, we prepared a living will for my mother. We went to a lawyer who asked her the questions I couldn’t. It’s true that the repercussions of not having end-of-life discussions may be worse than the uncomfortable nature of them, but be warned. Simply having them is no guarantee of success. After the initial trip to the law office, my mom and I had the conversation a few times over the years, but apparently not enough. Despite the living will, and her slow, bumpy slide to the inevitable end, when she was admitted to the hospital the penultimate time, and they asked her if she had a medical directive (“yes”), and if she understood what it said (“yes), and did she still want nothing done in the event of a, b, or c — e.g., heart failure, inability to breathe on your own, inability to eat, etc. — my mother, who at that time was 90 pounds with all her clothes on, said that she “definitely” wanted them to use the paddles should her heart stop. No one was more shocked than I was,
Green Life Blue Water 