Over the course of my life, I have seen many people die in anger and fear and bittterness, often with a deep unwillingness to accept mortality, theirs, their loved ones, even their dogs and cats,

These deaths become painful rituals of suffering, anger, grief, even guilt for those left behind.

In these cases, death is  always and only a source of pain. It never becomes a gift, an inspiration, a treasure left behind. There is little to send others, and it sometimes seems as if the human spirit has been extinguished and lost in the darkness.

My friend Ed Gulley died recently, and I believe  he had a good death. I have seen some of those also. They give me great hope.

I witnessed his death first hand, day after day, not in the very intense way way of his wife or family, but in the way of a friend free to come and go and help when possible.

Now that I have a chance to look back and reflect on the way Ed died, I can see more clearly what made it a good death, and what he left behind for others to keep

I want to say that death is sad, but  not only sad. I want to say that there is such a thing as a good death.

Ed and I talked about death quite a bit in the weeks and months before he died. Brain cancer is awful, but it does have one ironic benefit – those stricken know they will die and can prepare for it.

Ed and I shared our feelings about death, we saw it in the same way.

Most importantly, we both believed that we are responsible for the way we die. if we wish, we can die the way we choose to die.

Writes Henry Nouwen of death, “We have to choose between clinging to life in such a way that death becomes nothing but a failure, or letting go of life in freedom so that we can be given to others as a source of hope. This is a crucial choice and we have to “work” on that choice every day of our lives. Death does not have to be our final failure, our final defeat in the struggle of life, our unavoidable fate.”

Nouwen  beautifully and clearly expresses my deepest feelings about death, seeds planted in my conversion to Quakerism when I was young, and also in my decade of hospice volunteer and therapy work, and in assisted care facilities.

Preparation for a good death, I believe, begins with a human desire to give something of ourselves to others, something Ed Gulley did intuitively and enthusiastically for all of his life. I hope to do the same.

In this way, we can make our deaths a final gift, rather than only a final misery. I have this idea of death being fruitful, especially when it is a free gift, no strings attached.

Ed was committed to helping many people – neighbors, friends, cousins.

A small Army of beneficiaries turned up at his home and funeral to give thanks for his gifts of generosity of spirit and material things. His children were given the gift of inspiration and guidance, he was a strong anchor for his family and wife.

The thing I most remember about Ed came after he died, when his whole family and many friends gathered with beautiful stories to tell about how he had given love and new life and comfort to so many people and new hope to those who mourned his passing.

His children were given the great gift of having loved their father so much. I appreciate that gift, it was denied me.

It was clear to me that his spirit, so full of humor and experience and wisdom, will continue to touch and guide people for many years to come.

There is an old Christian saying I love: “We are called to become bread for each other – bread for the world.”

Ed became bread for his family, bread for the world. That is also my mission. So many people need bread.

It is common, even easy to sing the praises of the dead, when all is forgiven and grief overrides our many human foibles. People loved Ed in a very real and enduring way.  I was glad to be a part of Ed’s passing, grateful to be reminded once again that there is such a thing as a good death.

It takes thought and work and awareness.

A good death begins well before death comes. I was with Ed when he planned the kind of death he wished to have, and that is the one he had. He was constantly giving himself to other people.

Here is our choice: we can act as if we are entitled to live forever, and be stunned and unmoored whenever death appears, or we can  live with the joyful anticipation that our greatest desire to live our lives for others can be fulfilled in the way we choose to die.

I hope for a death in which I lay down my life in freedom, when me and those around me will be reminded of how much was given, not how much was lost.

Audio: If you prefer to hear my voice, this is my reading of this post, a new way to tell my stories.