So dad died when I was just 20 years old. He used to take me on these trips to the
beach every weekend when I was a kid. We were very close. He was a really good
father and we all loved him very much, but when he passed away, for some reason,
I decided to grieve by immediately moving on. I felt uncomfortable when people
asked me about him because I can never really cope with the idea that he had
passed away. That is, until I met a woman who calls herself the "memory artist." And
I'll explain what she does later on, but she told me that conversations about
death are not necessarily painful and that there are places all over the world
where complete strangers meet to openly talk about death and grief. When you get
right down to it, at some point we all experience loss and grief and it's not
necessarily a terrible thing, it's just part of living.
So there is such a thing as a death positivity movement but it's not as dark
as you think. Basically some people believe that openly talking about death
and grief is ultimately good for you. Death denial is ultimately anxiety, which
is fear. We are the animal that knows it's going
to die. How do we deal with that terror? This is Megan Rosenbloom she's a medical
librarian at USC, she's obsessed with rare books, and she's the co-founder of
the Death Salon, which she playfully calls the "Coachella of death," where
artists and academics come together to share their work and open up
conversations about death. So if you look at life as an infinite resource then you
don't value it as much. If you see it as something that you have a short time and
you want to make the most out of it, then you value it more and you tend to be
more happy. So death positivity is this, should be an
ongoing conversation, "OK, how do we help each other through these transitions,
whether the transition is that you're dying or that you've lost
someone important to you." You know, talking to people, feeling like you have
connections with people, being understood. And this need to be able to comfortably
and casually talk about death gave birth to death cafes. But they're not as morbid as
they sound. All right, guys, what I was thinking about is that we should start a
conversation. Death interests me, I think this is an experience we all have
and perhaps there's another one. I don't know, who knows? We'll all find out.
When we think of our own death, we might think of the
death of a loved one. Often we're just utterly unprepared for that, and I think
it's not always easy to have the courage to stand up and say, "This is the way I'm
expressing myself, this is the way I'm going through this." But things like this
death cafe brings people together who can talk more freely. I think that's so
healthy. It was interesting to see so many strangers being so open about their
views and their grief. This was completely new to me, but death cafes have been
around for a few years. The first death cafe was held in London
back in 2011 in Jon Underwood's home. That's the man who developed the model.
Since then, there have been more than 7,000 meetings in over 56 countries and
at this particular death cafe in New York City, the waiting list is long. More than
30 people showed up to the monthly meeting I went to. People, they engage
with these ideas little by little and then adding on, and the constant
engagement even in small ways can really make big effects because eventually they
come home to Thanksgiving and they're like, "You know what? I really think we
should do advanced directives." Approximately only one in three adults
in the U.S. completes any type of advanced directive, which is basically
end-of-life care planning for the future, in case you're unable to express
yourself. Only 44 percent of all Americans have living wills, and although 89 percent of
Medicare patients say doctors should discuss end-of-life care issues with
their patients, only 17 percent of them say they've had those discussions. But aside
from pushing us to be more responsible for when we or people we love transition,
the death positive movement also encourages people to grieve openly and
without shame. Something that's always been very difficult for me until I met
Nancy. I'm a memory artist. I actually made up that profession to
basically define creating a picture of a memory that you wish you had. I do try
for a certain kind of realism. It's kind of magic realism but I think that when
you make a tangible dreamscape that looks realistic then you are also
strengthening the memory further. Basically, Nancy believes that through
her dreamscapes, as she calls them, she can emotionally heal people by helping
them recall happy memories and then turning those moments into art.
I haven't seen these pictures in, in 10-11 years. I mean... What, what were some fun
things that you like to do with him? Describe it so that I'm literally
walking with you, you know, in that space. Yeah, I mean, I got to tell you it's so
long ago, and I'm not talking about when I was 20 years old. it doesn't have to be
accurate. Right, right. It's just, what, it's just like a feel. Just take, take a second,
think of that. Yes, it was very uncomfortable at first. But eventually, I
gave in. So here's a very clear memory I don't have a photo of. I sit shotgun,
right next to him inside his brown Wagoneer. We would drive for 30 to 40
minutes to the beach. Were there gulls? There were
some seagulls, yes. And it felt very warm. I hadn't thought about those
trips with my dad in years.
It's not about curing the fear of death or, you know, not having feelings when
someone dies, I don't think it's that. It's more like, "I'm here and I'm feeling
those feelings, and I'm feeling them for real." And that is just, like, actually
being truly self-aware, that's kind of baked into the whole death positivity
thing. In the end, everyone's relationship with death is different, and I assume it
changes throughout the years. For you, openly talking about it might help you
prepare emotionally or financially for the future, and maybe even make a few
friends while at it. For me, it helped me understand loss and grief from another
point of view, one that allows me, for the first time, to remember those I love
without pain.