OLIVIA BAREHAM

Older people say, " So let me get this straight. When I die my body is going to stay right here, and my husband will be able to see me, right?" And I say, " Yes." " Well, that feels comforting. Yes. I like that idea. Okay. And how long am I going to be here?" And I say, " You ' ll be here for two or three days," and they go, " I can probably see myself, can ' t I, after I ' m dead?" And I say, " Probably. I don ' t know for sure. But, I believe so.” And this smile comes on their face. They ' ve got a little bit more control now. They know what ' s going to happen because they know that they ' re still going to be hovering around their beloved home, instead of looking at their body in a refrigerator somewhere. They ' ll see their body looking beautiful and they ' ll be able to come up close and say, " Wow. My body is dead."( laughs). And, " There ' s my husband." And, " I can put my arm around him."

My biggest teacher last year was a man who did chemotherapy. He drank a spoonful of chemotherapy the day that he died. He was in his late 40s, and the most incredibly conscious man. He was at home with his wife and two kids. He said, " Olivia, if the doctor presents me with this possibility of chemotherapy, even though I can feel every day my body is declining, and I ' m probably going to die, who am I to say no thank you to that? If that ' s crossing my field, I ' m just going to say thank you. I don ' t bank on it working. I don ' t even hope that it works.”

To say no to it didn ' t feel right to him. But he never leaned upon hope. This man held recovery as a possibility, as just as strong a possibility as he was going to die, neither one had more weight. He didn ' t say, " Oh, I hope this is going to work. Oh, my God. I hope this is going to work." He wasn ' t attached to it working or not because he was just as willing to hold the possibility that he was dying. It really didn ' t matter to him one way or the other.

He had promised his 11 year-old son, " I ' m going to do everything possible to stay here with you." And that was important to him. And I think that actually helped him to say yes to the possibility factor of the chemotherapy because it validated to his son, " I ' ll do anything. I promise you that. I can ' t promise you it ' ll work. I can ' t promise you that I ' ll live." And I think that was a gift to his son. His son then knew there was no blame.

It could never be, " Oh, my dad gave up. He didn ' t try. He was going through this new age stuff." His father did everything he could, as he promised, with a smile on his face and acute consciousness.

He was such a powerful teacher to me. They all are.

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