Bronnie Ware, an Australian nurse who spent several years caring for patients during the last 12 weeks of their lives, routinely asked her patients about “any regrets they had or anything they would do differently.”
Bronnie spoke of the phenomenal clarity of vision that people would gain at the end of their lives and the common themes that surfaced again and again during these conversations.
Eventually, in a book about the experience, she would distinctly identify “The Top Five Regrets of the Dying.” They are:
- I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
- I wish I hadn’t worked so much.
- I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.
- I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.
- I wish that I had let myself be happier.
—
Funerals inspire me. They always have. There’s just something in the reminder of my mortality that compels me to make the most of each day.
I have attended several significant funerals particularly meaningful to me. I can remember the details and the stories well. No doubt, you can remember some yourself.
But perhaps the most inspirational funeral in my life is one I did not attend. It hasn’t happened yet.
Years ago, my grandfather, a pastor of 70+ years, called me into his office. I knew it well. He pastored the same church in South Dakota for 53 years and the items in his office always stayed the same: the large wooden desk, the typewriter, the bookshelves, even the drawer where he hid his candy. I stop in to visit every time I am in town.
But being specifically requested to meet him in his office on a designated day at a designated time was new. I didn’t know why he had invited me. And he wouldn’t tell me until I sat down across from him at his large wooden desk.
My grandfather started our conversation like this, “Joshua, I would like you to read at my funeral. Here is the verse I would like and this is where it will take place in the service.”
As he spoke, he slid a piece of paper across his desk. It was the order of service he had prepared for his funeral. Over our next several minutes together, he shared with me his hopes and desires for his funeral.
I suppose planning out one’s own funeral is not necessarily that rare. People do it all the time. My grandfather is in his 90’s and I am not surprised he would be thinking thoughtfully about that day—death is an inevitable occurrence for all of us.
What surprised me about the conversation was not the content or the subject. What surprised me was the confident nature by which he spoke. There was no fear in his demeanor. Death did not scare him. He did not regret, in any visible way, the coming end to his days.
And let me tell you, there are few things in life more inspirational than peering into the eyes of a man who does not fear his own death.
Years later, I still think about that conversation. Often times we hear about the regrets of the dying (as outlined in the list above) and we are warned to avoid making their mistakes.
But rarely are we offered the alternative.
Rarely are we provided with an example of a man or woman who faces death with few regrets. When we do, we are wise to follow their example and make the intentional adjustments that will prepare us to face our own mortality with courage and confidence.
As I consider the character of my grandfather’s life, I can identify numerous, reproducible actions to emulate:
1. Love well. My grandfather loves people with a rich love. He loves his kids, his extended family, his friends, even his enemies. His love for my grandmother is still so great he speaks freely of his desire to join her in death. This is not a surface love just for show, but one that includes his heart, his mind, and his soul. This is the type of love that allows us to reach the end of our lives with confidence and few regrets.
2. Hold lightly. My grandfather has always dreamed bigger dreams for his life than the offerings of this world. He has held everything this world offers with an open palm: money, possessions, fame, and prestige. He rarely pursued them out of selfish gain. They were given to him at times, but he was always quick to redirect the praise. Death always involves letting go of the world. And the sooner we learn how to do it, the sooner we prepare ourselves for that day.
3. Work hard. My grandfather is 95 years and still works 50+ hours/week. Nobody has shaped my view of work more than him. In a world that can’t wait for Friday and plans exhaustively for early retirement, my grandfather has stood steadfast in his appreciation for work and the fulfillment we receive from it. When we reach the end of our lives, we ought to be able to look back knowing we offered all our talents and energy to better the world around us—not that we foolishly wasted them.
4. Give freely. My grandfather is one of the most generous men I have ever met. Even while raising a family with four kids and struggling to make ends meet, he never turned his back on a legitimate request for assistance. From cash to food to housing, my grandfather gave and gives freely. He has given to me and he has given to strangers he will never meet again—all with joy and gratitude. Generosity in life provides opportunity to look back on our days with few regrets.
5. Make peace. My grandfather has made peace with others, peace with death, and peace with God. This is a blog read by millions of people from various faith and nonfaith backgrounds and finding peace with death means different things to different people. But my grandfather will credit making peace with God as the single most important decision he ever made in life. And believe me, nobody faces death confidently without making peace with it first.
Seneca once wrote, “It is not that we have a short time to live, but that we waste a lot of it. When it is wasted in heedless luxury and spent on no good activity, we are forced at last by death’s final constraint to realize that it has passed away before we knew it was passing. Life is long if you know how to use it.”
May each of us be inspired today to make the most of our one life and live it with no regrets.
Beverly says
Thank you Joshua for a great thought-provoking article and for sharing your grandfather with us. I sincerely enjoyed reading it.
Jodie Utter says
A great post to start my week off with, thank you, I will be pondering it all for quite some time.
Ree says
Such a beautiful post, as all of yours are. And, so timely. Just yesterday I spread my mother’s ashes in a remote desert that happened to be in full bloom. She had a deep love of the desert so the place and timing were picture perfect.
My mother was a rebel, a fighter and a fierce protecter of all whom she held dear. She gave even when she had so little of monetary wealth herself. But she was rich in friends and experiences.
I know she passed with some regrets and pains…
Mostly that she lost her own father too young, she was raised by an alcoholic mother, and the love of her life let her down in a way that cuts the deepest.
I miss her beyond words but am so grateful for the life she gave me. I was raised with love, freedom and respect. I only hope that I can incorporate more of the best of her as I live out the remainder of my life.
Josie says
Beautiful! I strive to live that way. I often fail, however. I’m not afraid to die, but I do want to live well while I can.
Ms. Montana says
Although I pursued early retirement in our 30’s, it was more of a launching board to create time and energy for bigger and more important thing. I have written about creating our “highlight reel” and thinking about all those most important moments that we want to experience. I hope that when I’m 90 I have 50 hours a week of meaningful, important work to be doing!
Susan says
“I hope that when I’m 90 I have 50 hours a week of meaningful, important work to be doing!”
I so love this :) At any age!
Jill Sanders says
This is one of the most inspiring articles I have read in a long time!!! A big change has come in my life recently and I am struggling to find the way to embrace it. This article gave me much to think about!
Kay Story says
My 90 yr old mother passed a month ago and she too was faithful daily to her God, church and caring for her family. There are five of us children and just yesterday we all met to celebrate the birthday of two (twins) of our siblings. Her wish was the family stick together. 26 of us honored her wish yesterday. She was a wife homemaker and mom first and always there waiting when we came home from school ! How blessed we were to have her so long especially me the oldest child.
Erin says
I love this article – this is the important stuff! But, it also leaves me sad, because I don’t believe in God. I want to but I just. . .don’t. I was raised Catholic but no longer believe in any organized religion. I’m still searching and seeking and hope to resurrect belief someday. But without a belief in God, death is quite terrifying. It is a full and final end. Anyone else experiencing this? I would love to hear your thoughts.
Ree says
Hi Erin,
I’m like you although while I don’t subscribe to any organized religion, I do feel a deep and strong connection to nature. When I’m in nature and it’s quiet…that’s when I think I feel “god.” I feel connected to everything and everyone.
I’m okay with that…
I still enjoy the times I do attend a church for whatever reason, most recently I attended the funeral of my uncle. I don’t share the same exact belief system/process, but the intentions are so similar…
Live a life you can be proud of, help others, don’t be selfish, be responsible, love and forgive.
Like you, I struggled with my “faith” or lack thereof in my younger days, but no longer. I just find my faith wherever it shows up and if you live with an open heart, you’ll find what resonates with you. Maybe that will be as a member of a church, as a volunteer helping the elderly or simply raising your own children.
I wish you well on your journey ~
Ree
Tara says
I am not religious and don’t believe in life after death, but I am not disturbed by the finality of death. My physical remains will return to the earth and nourish other life. The most important thing to me is to feel satisfied: that I did my best, that I treated myself and others well, that I did the things I most wanted to do. To me that is a successful and satisfying life.
Claudia Sanders says
I feel the same as you, Tara.
In addition, Buddhist philosophy has helped me become comfortable with the concept of the impermanence of everything in life.
I’m a Unitarian Universalist, a religion that focuses on deeds, not creeds. Doing good in the world, and knowing I’ve done what I can to make it a better place for those who follow, has helped me become comfortable with the reality of my own death.
Priscilla says
Erin,
Have you tried talking to God? Even if you don’t believe… in seeking, you could question God, as you wrote in your comment. Just as one opens one’s heart when confiding in a friend, you could open your heart, speak to God, and tell God what you are seeking. ‘God, this is what I want to know.’
You can challenge God to show you what God is. In a true way. In a real way. Maybe challenge God to satisfy and fulfill your seeking.
Your seeking is a blessing Erin!
Louise Gallagher says
This is beautiful and timely for me too — my mother is 94 1/2 and we are just moving her into extended care — tough weekend packing up her things.
I am sharing your first paragraph and the 5 things with a link here on my blog this morning.
Thank you!
Esther says
Thank you for a very excellent and helpful article. It gave me some things to ponder. Although I made peace with God many years ago and am ready to meet Him, I still have some dread of death. My husband–a retired pastor (but not really retired…and our dads and my grandpas were all pastors)–and I are both in our 80s and making those plans that need to be made. I think about this a lot and don’t really like being 80, although we are super active and pretty healthy.
Thank you again for all you shared in the article.