"What do you think happens when we die?” Christie asked.

“I don’t know,” I answered, matter-of-factly. “With my work, I’ve come to realize the other side is a mystery. And, weirdly, the mystery comforts me.”

We were discussing death over dinner. I’d come to my hometown for a weekend of memorial gatherings for Christie’s mother.

Her mom and mine had been best friends. I lived next door and babysat her brother when her mother gave birth to her. I walked Christie and her brother through the heartbreaking experience of their mother’s passing.

In this quiet hour between social events, our conversation turned toward typical fodder for wakes: the afterlife.

Facing Fear with Knowledge

My death anxiety peaked during my mother’s dying year.

I’d never lost anyone so close to me. And the thought of my mother being “gone” was terrifying.

Even more terrifying was the idea of watching her die.

To ease my mind, I delved into books about the paranormal. Near-death experiences. Past-life regression. Reincarnation phenomena. Ghosts, hauntings, mediums, and psychics.

It’s weird, right? He was here, now he’s not. ~ Bear to Elora, at the funeral for an elder, Reservation Dogs (series finale)

The books that helped me most were about deathbed phenomena. They shed light on what to expect.

The first one I read was The Signposts of Dying by Dr. Martha Jo Atkins. Dr. Atkins is a death counselor and educator. Her book is based on her dissertation research about the common signs of the dying process and how it impacts patients and their families.

The book identified typical physical symptoms of dying. They include loss of appetite. Sleeping more and drowsiness. Slow, irregular breathing. Death rattle. Bluish nails and mottled skin. Terminal agitation, a fitfulness that’s difficult to witness.

These are symptoms of bodily systems shutting down. But they can be frightening if we’ve never witnessed the natural dying process.

More intriguing, though, were the psychological signs. There are common patterns in the actions and conversations of people who are on the trajectory toward death.

Dying patients often hear voices and music. They interact with invisible visitors. Sometimes these visitors are deceased family members or friends. Sometimes they’re religious figures, guides or helpers. These “friendlies,” as Dr. Atkins calls them, usually are comforting to the patient. And they may appear weeks before death, when the patient is completely lucid.

Dying people also talk about suitcases. Other rooms. Ladders reaching up beyond the ceiling.

They may wait impatiently for trains and automobiles. Or gaze through us or above us or fixate on a specific corner or wall. They stare at the ceiling or reach toward someone or something we can’t see. They fidget with bedding or clothes, trying to break free from earthly bindings.

Most intriguing are the shared death experiences reported by loved ones at the dying patients’ bedsides.

Some report seeing mist or bright lights. They may hear music. Some feel energy moving through them or an upward pull on their bodies. Family members have even co-experienced a loved one’s life review.

Normalizing Death

I discovered that The Signposts of Dying is one of many books on this topic. Deathbed phenomena are quite common. They’ve been documented for centuries and occur worldwide across all ages, cultures, and religions. You’ll also hear such stories from veteran hospice workers who’ve helped numerous people pass.

No one argues the existence of deathbed phenomena, but they disagree on the causes.

Scientific thinkers attribute them to hallucinations. Spiritual seekers and the deeply religious believe our loved ones are getting glimpses of the beyond.

Death educators point out that neither hypothesis can be proven. And it doesn’t matter.

These experiences are real to dying patients and help them cope with one of the scariest transitions of their lives.

If family members take the time to learn what to expect, their loved ones’ experience can help them, too.

Dr. Atkins’ work normalized the dying process for me.

As I sat vigil with my mother, I watched for the signs. My mindfulness helped me relax and stay present with her as she passed.

Now, I’m walking my father through the Shadowlands. Again, I see the signs, indicating he’s getting closer to the threshold.

I know, now, to never question his stories. Instead, I ask for more details. I try to decode his metaphoric accounts. I hope to learn what I can expect when my time comes.

Devoutly Agnostic

In After This, grief therapist Claire Bidwell Smith recounts her interview with palliative care doctor BJ Miller, who ran San Francisco’s Zen Hospice Project. He described his faith as “devoutly agnostic.” 

In the past, I felt sorry for agnostics.

Christians looked forward to heaven. Hindus expected to progress to a new and more challenging life. Buddhists prepared to merge with “all that is.” Atheists believe they’ll simply cease to exist.

But agnostics? I assumed they lived with doubt and uncertainty. And uncertainty is hell on earth for humans.

But Dr. Miller sees it differently. “Devoutly agnostic” means being inquisitive about the experience of dying. Staying open to the great mystery of death.

What you can learn in a high school physics class is enough for me to know that we don’t know everything, that there are connections among us that are yet [to be] discovered. ~ BJ Miller, quoted from his interview with Claire Bidwell Smith, After This

And, he added, when we pay attention to death, we stop taking our lives for granted. We appreciate our time here. We make different decisions when we know our days are finite.

For me, learning about death has led me to question all the assumptions that frightened me about my own demise. I can’t say I believe anything specific. But I do have lots of hope.

I hope for a peaceful, pain-free transition.

I hope to see my loved ones in the upper corner of my room, beckoning me to join them. I hope to feel boundless and untethered, and deeply loved.

I hope my exit feels like a brilliant roller coaster ride into eternity.

It doesn’t matter if any of this is real or hallucinations. At the very least, I believe my mind can produce the experience I need to get me through my passing.

My forays into the paranormal and deathbed phenomena piqued my curiosity.

And curiosity feels much better than fear.

Follow Your Intuition

If you find yourself drawn to the world of the mystical and paranormal, don’t second guess it.

Your intuition is inspiring you to try and make sense of an unfathomable experience. A universal one that no one alive can definitively describe.

It’s an anxiety-producing experience and humans cope with anxiety by collecting information and forming predictions. We adapt to the unknown through our imaginations.

Others’ accounts of the mystical and mystifying may be exactly what you need.

Or maybe not.

Perhaps you already have firm beliefs about the hereafter.

If so, consider going deeper with those beliefs. How do you imagine eternity? What do you hope it will be like?

If you can find ease about the dying process, you’ll provide better support to transitioning loved ones. Plus, you’ll be willing to prepare your family to be with you when your turn comes.

And, as Dr Miller pointed out, your reflections on death may inspire you to live a deeply meaningful life.

You can read the first post in the Death Anxiety series here.

Here's a list of resources that helped me explore my thoughts about dying and afterlife: 

• The Signposts of Dying by death counselor and educator Martha Jo Atkins. Or watch Dr. Atkins’s TEDtalk. 
• After This by grief therapist Claire Bidwell Smith.
• Hospice Nurse Julie YouTube channel.
• Erasing Death by ER physician and researcher Sam Parnia. Or watch this interview with Dr. Parnia
• Final Gifts by Maggie Callanan and Patricia Kelley https://maggiecallanan.com/finalgifts.htm
• Glimpses of Eternity: Sharing a Loved One's Passage From This Lifetime to the Next by Dr. Raymond Moody (book).

Rather connect through email? Send your questions to cindy@shadowlandscoaching.com.