The Times of Our Lives

My mother had many sayings about aging, including “Life is hard, eat dessert first, or “Don’t sweat the small stuff.”   The one I keep repeating to myself at the age of 84 is, “Getting old ain’t for sissies!”  Never have truer words been spoken.  We are asked to step into many liminal spaces in older age, some of which leave us feeling so empty we wonder whether we will ever bounce back.   But somehow, if we step over the threshold into this new space, we can and will be transformed.

The concept of liminality is an ancient concept that represents times of feeling “in between” or “uncertain” or even “broken open.”   Being broken open allows room for new insights and new meaning.  It is deeply spiritual.  It invites us to move beyond our practiced and often ego-driven responses to a more vulnerable space where we say to ourselves, “Oh, I never thought of that, or, ”  “I’ve never felt this way before.”  When we arrive at that place, we begin to deepen and transform and become more authentic as human beings.

Usually when we are at a threshold place, such as stepping into retirement, experts recommend that we stay there for an extended period of time rather than make hasty decisions.  That time allows for deep reflection and discernment.  Sometimes, however, the threshold moments come to us with an intensity and rapidity that feels like dominos cascading in front of us.  That happened to me and my husband in the spring of 2025.   On April 10, 2025, my husband, Kirk, arrived home for summer in Seattle from our winter home in Mazatlan, Mexico.  We’ve had the pleasure of these two wonderful places to live for about seven years.  Each place has brought us great joy.  I was thrilled to see him and looked forward to sharing spring and summer with him.  He was the love of my life and we had been married for 34 years.

As we settled into our normal routine, I began to become concerned as Kirk seemed extremely tired all of the time, which was not normal.  We finally went to Urgent Care, and they discovered he had pneumonia. We then found out he had the most aggressive form of AML (Acute Myeloid Leukemia). It kills all the white blood cells, red blood cells, and bone marrow and leaves you with something called “deep bone pain,” which is excruciating.  Talk about a threshold time!  My husband, who was going to live to 120, was five years younger than I was, and was physically fit, was going to die soon from a disease we had never heard of. We were in disbelief.

Fortunately, all of the Sage-ing work I had done in preparing for the end of life kicked into place.  We had not anticipated he would die so soon but we had done the work to agree that if it was appropriate, we would use Death with Dignity, which is available in the State of Washington.  We had also chosen to use soil transformation of our bodies through Earth Funerals. Our three children, two partners, and two close friends gathered around our bed on June 5^th and performed a ritual of poetry, statements of gratitude, and blessings.  We ended with a toast to Kirk for living such an amazing life and as he drank his “cocktail” we drank our beverages in his honor.  He was happy and ready, and we were all transformed by the beauty of his death.

I’ve had a chance over nearly a year to reflect on what I’ve learned about myself and about life.  Here are some of those insights.  Do everything with love.  Invite people into the process of dying, it can be a beautiful thing.  Die at home if possible.  Grief is a challenging but important companion, and it never goes away.  It is a constant reminder of the love that you had.  Ultimately what you most want to control is out of your control, approach these times with humility.  Since then, I’ve stepped over another threshold by selling our condo and moving into a retirement community where I will be cared for through the end of my life in a place that isn’t afraid to talk about death.  That was Kirk’s final request – to make sure I will be cared for with love.

Thank you Kirk. I love you.   – Carol