I remember my last day with my Mom as being one of the most amazing days of my life. I didn’t know it was going to be the last day. No one ever knows. I shared the last afternoon with my sister and our close family friends, reliving memories, sharing wisdom, and finding solace in knowing that Mom had shown us how to have tremendous courage in the face of hardship.

In dying, my mom was as radiant as she had been in life. Laying in bed surrounded by her dearest and most beloved, she expressed her overwhelming satisfaction with the life she had lived; how spending the last five years of it in a dance with cancer had only elevated her sense of spirituality, self-love, and connection with her enlightened form.

My final memories of my mom are ones that I can cherish and remember without regret or pain because they were full of laughter and love beyond what I could have imagined to be present in dying.

It is not a common practice to share stories of death and dying with our children. We only tell of immensely improbable happily-ever-afters, and we teach how to circumvent death rather than how to embrace it. The process of death and dying has been manufactured by our society to be dark and mournful, equated with loss and pain.
I would never deny that death can be sad, painful, and difficult, but there is no logical reason to explain our teaching of death as a negative experience. We should not attempt to escape death, when we all know that it is inevitable. Would you run from something that is not inherently evil? We do not run from life, which can be just as troubled as death, if not more. If we embrace life in spite of its misfortunes, we should do the same with death. Confront death as you would confront life— accepting that it will bring hardship, sadness, and pain, but also that it can be a beautiful, eye-opening, and positively transformative event.

The argument to be made for death as a positive force is a simple one. Without death, life would be diminished in value. A transient thing is of much more value than is something perpetual. Would a rainbow be recognized as beautiful if it was always there? Part of it’s beauty comes from its fleeting nature, and from it’s vibrant color often contrasted against the backsplash of grey sky.  Earth could not support immortal life; thus the existence of death enhances our experience of life. The natural cycle of life and death encourages a conscious appreciation for our limited time as human beings.

The process of dying is a beautifully raw and existentially eye-opening one, if you choose to let it be. Everyone experiences death and dying in a different way, but to choose a positive experience is beyond difficult. When my mother was dying, she was determined to have her death be a beautiful and joyous experience. By choosing an enlightened way in which to confront death, my mother showed me dying as the intensely beautiful human experience that it is. In the time leading up to her death, she celebrated, she laughed, she shared stories, she sang, and she taught. Her determination to have a true happy ending brought me a profound understanding of death. She sought to create a new kind of happily ever after, one which I hope more people are able to achieve.
She lived by her teachings, and died by them too. Her death was beautiful and graceful. There was no “funeral”, no “memorial service”— instead a celebration of the love she emanated, the wisdom she embodied, the kindness she exuded, and the passion with which she lived. She brought together a community when she died, united by the common bond of her teachings and love. Her death was a device of creation, not loss.

From death and dying sprung a renewed love and appreciation for life, as well as confirmation that death isn’t negative. My mom gave me the greatest and most precious gift that one can give— a life to live, one day followed by a death to experience. Her life may not have been long in years but, as she put it, it was one brimming with true living beyond its brevity of time. She appreciated every precious second of it, and when it came time for her to die, she treasured every moment, just as she had done with her life.

THIS is what a real happily-ever-after looks like. It does not always mean growing old with the people you love, living in a big castle, or riding off into the sunset with a handsome prince. It is a humble and universal experience of returning to the peace of oblivion, having lived a brief existence on a speck of dust orbiting in infinite galaxies.