THE END

THE  END

My parents both had euthanasia. We are Dutch, and they had wanted this for a long time. They both made preparations: a pile of documents about when, and how, they wanted to die.

By the time my mother was very ill and in hospital, she said: enough.
They took her home.
We children came over, with spouses and offspring. There was not much space in their flat but that's where most of us stayed.

We talked, or just sat together.
When the day came, grandkids and in-laws said goodbye, and the three of us came with her to the bedroom, one by one at first. We talked some more. Then we all
came in together.

The doctor gave her a drink.
She died.

Can you imagine anything more peaceful and, dare I say it, happy?

My father did the same a few years later. He was 85 and had enough. One day he fell out of bed, refused treatment and that was that.

We all came, said goodbye - and have beautiful memories of that day.

I live in the countryside and most of the funerals I have witnessed here have been good. The vicar tends to know people, even if they don't attend the services. When someone dies, everyone turns out. The service is usually in church, not the crematorium, whatever they did or did not believe. Of all the off-putting places, I find crematoria some of the worst.

Me, I want to be put in the earth, to be transformed in fertile soil, for new life to begin. With a wooden cross: by the time the wood has finally rotted away, no one will remember me anymore, so someone else can have that place. And that way the churchyard won’t ever fill up!

People have all sorts of fears and reasonings about euthanasia, but I don’t care for reasonings.

In Februari I was diagnosed with motor neurone disease. The only good side of this disease is: when the time comes, I’ll be able to choose: stop breathing or have gadgets attached to me. And that will be MY decision.

Annemieke Wigmore, 01460 53165, http://thoughtforfood-aw.blogspot.com. See also http://naturaldeath.org.uk.