Today it has been 10 weeks since Christina died. I still ruminate about that morning and all that has followed. Regrets accumulate as I look back with 20/20 hindsight, but what did I know? I acted without thinking, allowing pure emotion in my driver's seat. Looking back, I now wish we had not called 911 upon finding her. What was I thinking? Did I really think she was still alive? Did I really think the paramedics could somehow reverse what she had done?
Instead, I wish we would've waited. I wish we had simply taken her down, moved her lifeless body to my bed, and called family first. By calling 911, we relinquished all rights. Once the paramedics and law enforcement arrived, Christina no longer belonged to us and our opportunity to process what she had done was amputated. If we had laid her in my bed and allowed family and friends to spend time with her, I believe our grieving process would have been easier and more humane. By keeping the authorities at bay, we could've provided a more holistic opportunity for her children to see her and understand that she had died. Instead, they never got those final hugs. All they got was a poorly designed replica of their mother.
Once the paramedics arrived, they took it upon themselves to decide what to do and they artifically injected "life" back into her; well, a pulse anyway. Then the hospital. Using all of their finest samples of life support technology, they made her heart beat, her lungs expand and contract, and with the help of a heating blanket, they kept her warm. But that is not life. Christina was not alive; her body simply simulated life. And, because we were never consulted nor asked our opinions on what should be done, the medical profession took hold of her simulated final hours. She may have been on life suport, but that system does not support life. It kept us at bay. How could we hold her and hug her with all of that equipment in the way? She belonged at home, in my bed, where we could've grieved and said our goodbyes more naturally and with dignity.
Prior to Christina's death, I was intellectually and theoretically in support of the green funeral movement and the old ways of caring for our own deceased. Now, I am fully convinced, both intellectually and emotionally, that we must return to the more humane traditions of allowing the family to care for their departed - at home. While the medical profession and the funeral industry has their merits, it should not be routine. I am more convinced than ever before that when I die, I shall remain at home, not be embalmed, and buried as God and nature intended. I do not wish to be preserved with toxic chemicals that will render me unrecognizable. I do not want to be sealed in an airtight crock pot of a casket. I want simply to be placed in a biodegradeable wood box and buried, allowing Nature to take its course.
Once again, I must apologize to Christina - for not thinking, for not taking control of the situation, and for not allowing her the dignity to be mourned in her own home. But, what did I know?
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