Thoughts About Death

As I wrote about recently, when I talked about my first year as a widower, my thoughts have changed significantly since my (second) wife died.

I’m thinking – obsessing in some cases – about death a lot more, for one thing.

For example, I wonder what would happen if I were to die now, something that never crossed my mind when my wife was still here (even though it maybe should have).

My main concern are my three dogs – they have lived here for several years now (maybe five or six) since they were adopted from a local pet rescue, which we have supported in one way or another since 2005.

They get on well together, even though they have very different personalities, and I would not like to see them split up.

However, if the same rescue took them back, it’s highly unlikely that all three would be given another chance in the same home together.

After all, we didn’t rescue these three at the same time – they arrived over the course of a few months.

And placing older dogs, which they would be at that stage, is always more difficult.

Other than that, I’m really not that bothered what happens to me or my stuff.

Regarding me, as long as I am definitely dead, I have no particular preference for what they do with my body.

I guess whatever is most ecologically friendly, since I am not religious and have no traditions to observe, cultural or religious.

If I have any family, they would still be in the UK, and they probably won’t even hear about my death when it happens.

As for friends, the only ones I see face-to-face are the ones who are probably going to have to deal with the aftermath of my passing.

And that brings me to the next point.

Back in England, my first wife and I finally got around to making a will after having been married for about ten years.

Now that I divorced her and remarried, I clearly don’t want that will to be used.

My second wife and I never made wills, which has already caused a minor issue – because my wife had already purchased the house I’m in outright back in 2003, when I moved here in 2005, my name was never put on the deeds.

Since she died unexpectedly, I have had to go through an unusual process to have the house put in my name, something I was able to do with the help of a friend and a local paralegal who did all the paperwork for me.

It was an easy-enough process, but it was on my mind because the laws in the area I live don’t automatically mean that an estate passes to the spouse when one partner dies (if there is no will).

So at least that is one thing out of the way.

The next item on my agenda is a will, or beneficial deed, I think it may be called.

Again, I have no family to leave anything to, and certainly none that I care about, so I want to make sure my friends benefit from it.

But the house is a mess – my second wife was a huge hoarder.

There are two rooms that are almost full of stuff she brought with her from Los Angeles when she moved here in 2003 that were never unpacked.

And after I arrived, she bought a whole bunch of stuff, including, for example, household gadgets and appliances, but so much more than that.

There was also a ton of food – since we started shopping for food exclusively online back in 2007, and because of her weird dietary restrictions, most of what we bought was in bulk (e.g. case packs at a minimum).

We would often take delivery of something new she wanted to try out, only to find that she didn’t like it, or she had a bad reaction to it, so the rest of the case was left alone.

Now that she has gone, I have been trying to eat up what I can (with the doggies’ help of course) and to give any of the remaining food (that is still in date, because I’ve found items with an expiration date of 2011 and maybe even earlier) to my friends, and I am trying to tidy up the house.

Again, I’ve given a bunch of stuff (e.g. appliances, clothes) to my friends, to use themselves or to donate to a local charity, and I’ve also filled no end of dumpsters with stuff that is beyond salvage.

And after over a year of doing that, you still wouldn’t see what I’d done if you came into the house for the first time, because it is still a mess.

So there is a mountain of stuff still to deal with, which I’m trying to tackle whenever I can.

Amongst all those things are items I would want my friends to be able to use, and things that can safely be thrown out.

But I cannot ask anybody, not even my good friends, to sort through all of that, so I’m creating a document that lists, room by room, items they should look out for, and where to find them.

Of course, the situation may change before I die, so I shall have to remember to keep the document up to date.

And then there are all the financial accounts and subscriptions and services related to my businesses that will need to be shut down.

Some of this will, I hope, be covered when I get that will done, which I’m in the process of initiating, but others may have to be left to my friends too, and I don’t envy them the task.

Apart from the usual bank and card accounts, and utilities (e.g. electricity, phone, Internet, television), I have a ton of accounts with companies for services that my business needs, such as web hosting, domain names, and a whole bunch of others that will need shutting down.

Again, I need to create a document that will let my friends deal with all of this, and that’s not a job I look forward to.

During all of this, I am also thinking – not deliberately – of all the tiny things that could go wrong, accidents I might have, my health.

Recently, I had a small bout of toothache, which I get from time to time, and just as that cleared up, I started having chest pains.

Coincidentally, I had literally just read about how having bacteria in your oral cavity can lead to heart problems, so I was understandably a little bit scared.

At the time of writing this, some two to three weeks laterI still have those chest pains, although nowhere near as bad (because it feels like I’m almost better again), but I have been very careful – less work, more rest, and no house tidying for a while.

I don’t know whether this has been a chest infection (and if so, it’s likely not the coronavirus that is all over the news these days, because there are no reported cases in my area and I only see three people on a regular basis, having effectively socially isolated and distanced myself for about 13 years now), or whether it’s the result of stirring up dust and rodent droppings while tidying up the house.

(When I resume that tidying up, I will wear a mask and rubber gloves from now on, just to be as safe as possible.)

So I know that my life, at 60, is in the second half (at least), and that bodies can give out suddenly, without any warning. After all, that’s what happened to my second life.

What I don’t like is that this is on my mind in the first place, but it would feel irresponsible if I didn’t start doing something about the inevitable fact that, one day, I will not be here any longer.

And I’m not afraid of death – I’d simply rather it happen with the minimum of pain and as quickly as possible.

By that, I don’t mean that I want to die right now – I just want the process to end soon after it starts, as it did for my late wife.

Because in the past, when I was depressed, I was suicidal, but that’s not my situation now.

It’s more of a case that if I knew I was going to go to sleep one night and never wake up again, I’d be OK with that – provided I knew that my dogs, assuming I have any left when this happens, would be taken care of.

And that’s a problem – because I never go out and I see people rarely, I could, in theory, be dead for almost an entire week before anybody knew about it.

So that’s something else I may need to deal with – finding a way to do a daily check-in with my friends so that I know I’m still here.

And really, without those friends, I’d be a bit lost.

They already have a huge family – my best friend has eleven children, and most of those have their own children, and I think he may even have great grandchildren by now.

And he has his own health issues – but he is the sort of man who simply cannot resist helping others.

His daughter is the same, and now that I’m getting to know one of her sons, it seems like it runs in the family.

They take care of me in ways you could not reasonably expect from people I met purely because it was their job to deliver my mail, and I am very grateful for their friendship and help.

I don’t mind being alone, but there are times when I need to talk to somebody – not necessarily about my problems or health, but just to talk, in the way that my wife used to.

So, I’m not sure what lessons others can learn from this.

I’m certainly not advocating going through life being fixated on death, but I do think it’s wise to at least start thinking about these matters as soon as you have people who depend on you.

That would mean creating a will as soon after getting married as you can, and remembering to keep it updated when necessary, as well as creating a new one should that relationship end and you enter into a new one.

It may also be wise to keep a record of accounts you maintain with other companies.

You probably don’t need to record usernames and passwords, but at least the name of the company, maybe their URL or contact details, your account number (or whatever unique identifier you chose or were assigned) – or perhaps, for security, just the last four digits or anything that will help identify the account – and probably the name on that account too.

Then, whoever is left dealing with all of the bureaucracy after you die, they will at least have a starting point and be able to contact those companies to get those accounts closed (or maybe transferred).

I guess some of that could go into a will, but since this information is likely to change constantly, then it’s probably better to record it somewhere else.

However, since the document may contain sensitive information, the next question is where to store it.

It clearly needs to be secure, but it also needs to be accessible to those you entrust with using that information.

And to be honest, I’ve not yet worked out the best way of doing this.

I’m tending towards an electronic document that’s online somewhere (e.g. Google Docs) that may be password-protected, and then email my friends a link to it.

Another option I’m considering instead of the email, which may well be lost in the depths of their inbox by the time I die, is to have an envelope in my home that is very visible and addressed to my friends, and that envelope will contain instructions on how to access the document.

Or maybe I’ll come up with a better solution.

I did look at a service I found that will automate this.

The way it appears to work is that you need to do something every day to confirm to the system that you’re still alive, and if you don’t do that for a specified number of days in a row, they will send the email you have pre-written to your contact(s) and then they can deal with it. I think there may be a few other safeguards to prevent a false alarm, but I like the overall idea.

So, all of these are the sort of things that are on my mind these days, when I’m not working or sleeping or managing to entertain myself.

It’s sad that it has to be on my mind at all – but there is, apparently, no escaping it.

And in the meantime, I shall continue to be as careful as I can, with my health and diet and avoiding household accidents, while passing the days doing what I have to do and, hopefully, what I want to do, whatever that may be.

Because I’ve never been ambitious in life, so as I said, my only real goal at the moment is to look after my dogs for as long as they are here – and I hope they predecease me.

With no other human to really care for on a day-to-day basis, life does feel somewhat empty, and although I’m perfectly capable of enjoying my own company, it’s just not the same.

I’m not in a hurry to die, but I’m not bothered if it happens either.

And finally, remember that, as I mentioned above, I’m neither religious nor spiritual (whatever that means) at all so there is no afterlife, either good or bad, for me to look forward to – this is the only life I expect to have, and I’m really not sure what to do with what remains of it.

One day at a time, as they say.