On a frosty October morning, my husband and I received a call that would shift our perspective on life. It was the first day we felt the chill of the season, marking the end of playground outings with our daughter. Instead, we opted for a warm breakfast at Perkins—chocolate chip pancakes for her and hot coffee for us, a comforting way to start the day.
As we savored our meal, my husband’s phone buzzed with a voicemail from his father, which was unusual. This prompted concern; his dad rarely leaves messages. My husband stepped outside to return the call while I stayed inside with our daughter, stealing sips of coffee and nibbling grapes, my mind racing with worry.
When he returned, he shared that a family member had been hospitalized for a week but was stable. However, the real shock came when he relayed the news of a dear friend of his brother-in-law who had suffered a ruptured brain aneurysm at just 30 years old. Though surgery was performed, he remained in a coma due to bleeding on the brain.
My heart sank. I didn’t know him well, but the news struck a deep chord within me. It triggered painful memories of my own father, who had died suddenly from a ruptured aneurysm at just 39. His passing left behind a young widow and two small children, mirroring my own family situation.
Such events often lead us to reflect on our own mortality, and while I’m not ill, I am aware of my genetic predisposition to aneurysms. With my father’s history and my aunt’s multiple aneurysms, I recognize that this risk is part of my family legacy. Like many, I think about what I would do if faced with a terminal diagnosis. However, one crucial task emerged in my mind: creating a living will.
My father didn’t pass immediately; he lingered in a coma for eight days, during which my mother faced agonizing decisions about his care. I never want my husband or daughter to experience that uncertainty. So, as we sat down for dinner one night, I broached the topic of drafting a living will.
“I started working on a living will today,” I announced, my tone serious but my voice unsteady.
“Don’t we have a lawyer for that?” my husband quipped, using humor to mask his discomfort.
“Yes, but we can easily draft one ourselves,” I explained. “With everything happening lately, especially with Chris, I realized it’s something we need to address.” I then encouraged him to create one as well.
After some contemplation, he agreed, and we began discussing our wishes for medical care in the event we couldn’t communicate them ourselves. This wasn’t our first conversation about end-of-life preferences, but it was the first time we approached it with a legal mindset. While it felt good to share our thoughts, it was also a sobering experience.
What’s more daunting? Writing a will that addresses assets and guardianship or a living will that specifies our medical wishes? Is it easier to confront these issues now or to leave our loved ones to navigate the difficult choices alone? While my dinner conversation about organ donation and end-of-life care may have felt heavy, it ultimately lightened the load for our future.
Life is unpredictable, and while no one can escape death, we can alleviate the burden on our families by ensuring they know our wishes. This preparation helps them avoid the stress of making tough decisions during a time of grief.
In summary, discussing and drafting a living will is a vital step in safeguarding your loved ones from making difficult decisions during challenging times. By openly expressing your wishes now, you create clarity for your family, allowing them to focus on healing rather than uncertainty.
For more insights on related topics, you can explore this excellent resource on donor insemination or check out how to boost fertility supplements.
If you’re interested in further reading, we also have some great articles on our other blog post about life planning.