Aging is like a traffic accident. We are walking, whistling probably, and as we cross a street we are blindsided by a truck. The truck is old age; silent, invisible, lurching up at us in the midst of our still youthful stride, amid our sweet thoughts that are a million miles away from anything as banal as reality. Weren’t we supposed to live forever, to finally learn the secrets of success, to satisfy dreams and resolve the festering wounds of youth, adulthood and middle age? Don’t we get ... Read Full Story

As we enter the present national debate about health care, with the “Deathers” screed against having an Advance Directive and scheduled payments for doctors who tell their patients about end-of-life care, may I inject my 2cents worth? I am 76 years old, have been a hospital volunteer for three years, was a hospice volunteer for six years; I am now a team member of Compassion & Choices of Oregon, an eleven year old Oregon legislature-approved organization dedicated to providing compassi... Read Full Story

He: “We met at nine.” She: “We met at eight.” He: “I was on time. She: “No, you were late.” He: “Ah, yes! I remember it well.” --- He: “That dazzling April moon!” She: “There was none that night.” “And the month was June.” He: “That’s right! That’s right!” She: “It warms my heart to know that you remember still the way you do.” He: “Ah yes! I remember it well.” --- He: “You wore a gown of gold.” She: “It was all in blue.” He: “Am I getting old?” She: “Oh no! Not you!” “How ... Read Full Story

My name is Richard Ernie Reed. As a sexually abused, psychologically neglected child since I was ten months old, I have been facinated with the question of why do our adult friends and care-takers hate us so much that they visited all of the infinate unspeakable acts of anger and frustration upon us? Recently I found the answer, in another poet's words. Don Marquis was a reporter, playwright and poet. His muse was a cockroach named Archie who wrote on the poet's typewrite... Read Full Story

Dear Richard, Earlier this spring, Stephen Wallace of Benton City, Washington received a diagnosis of terminal pancreatic cancer. With an estimated month to live - and having watched his wife suffer in agonizing pain as cancer overtook her body years earlier - Stephen was adamant about his wish to use the state's new Death with Dignity law.But when he talked to his doctors at Kadlec Medical Center in Richland about accessing the Death with Dignity law, he found none would support his dec... Read Full Story

Scientists are discovering that our brain is like an automated blackboard – the kind we had at school. Our blackboard is filled with information written when we were children, about how to live and who we are. Most of the information was written there by our parents and other role models, reflecting who they were and how they saw their prejudices, their expectations or lack of expectations about their future, their ability to be successful or not to be successful – all of it outda... Read Full Story

We often live a self-fulfilling prophesy. As we age, we start unconsciously to begin mimicking the other older people around us. And often, those older people unconsciously begin to mimic their aged or already dead parents or grandparents – they slow down, shuffle when they walk, become bent over and stop doing the activities they used to love. They become “old” before your eyes, and suddenly you find yourself following them, slowing your own rhythm and walking away from a more vi... Read Full Story

You walk into a room for a meeting or a party. You exclaim, “Oh, my gosh, it’s so cold in here!” Then, you either walk out or you spend the rest of the time feeling miserable, cold, and unhappy. What if a friend next to you had smiled and replied, “Why, it’s only a few degrees from perfect.” What could you do then? Could you borrow a sweater, ask to have the thermostat turned up, or really listen to what your friend has just said and realize that your momentary discomfort need not spoil the... Read Full Story

     Many thanks to Dr. Jennifer Soyke of Eugene, OR for finally putting a catchy name on that process which nobody wants to think about, much less talk about – death and dying. In her recent essay in the Journal of the American Medical Association, she recalls a visit with  an elderly patient who was dying at home, surrounded by her friends and family.          “She looked patrician, elevated and transported, and then was gone. When the family discussed what she had actually died of, the... Read Full Story

      My thoughts are on dying recently; not just because I have reached my 75th birthday, but also because of the depressing headlines in the newspapers. And, I must admit, because of my six years as a hospice volunteer and my present responsibilities as a volunteer for Compassion and Choices of Oregon.      But maybe because of this experience, I have learned to look at my impending demise and those of my loved ones and friends as one of adventure and celebration instead of denial and fe... Read Full Story