Step 1: Get Organized

Since he is terminal, he is willing to talk, plan and proceed with a diligence not likely encountered in one of good health. I could see that part of the appeal for my father was taking this bad situation and making it happen on his terms. He seemed pleased with the thought of defying a time-honored and institutionalized system. This was an unforeseen and unexpected pleasure the whole family soon shared. We learned from dad to enjoy this bucking the ranks approach to death too.

My brother, sister and I listened carefully, and then we began our shenanigans--that's the word we used for it our plots and plans about Dad’s death.

First, since Dad was already focused on getting his paperwork in order, I volunteered to be the paperwork guy when he dies. I’m good at that.

My sister agreed to be the medical person. Because of her experience and training as an EMT, it made sense that she would oversee and guide that part of the end.

My brother was to be the coordinator and point person when dad actually dies because he has a cool head. We talked this division of labor over with dad and he agreed to it.

There must be a therapeutic benefit from keeping records and organizing for the end, because the farther along we progressed, the more dad chose to be consumed with these tasks.

I noted that when he was having a good day his sphere of concern was large and encompassed instructions and plans for extended family and even distant friends. But when he was having bad days, which became more frequent as time forced its agenda, how his concern bubble shrunk--no worries about anything beyond his next breath or pain meds. We had to take advantage of the good days and help him struggle through the others.

Our next step was to...