I used to declare boldly, 'I'm not afraid to die,' and I truly believed it. Now, in my 40s as a father of two, my perspective on death and farewells has shifted profoundly. I think about it often—and I'll share why, drawing from my own journey.
Table of contents
This shift stems from my age, watching my parents' generation age, and raising my own children. It truly began with fatherhood, as I now realize.
I can pinpoint the exact moment: my outlook on life—and death—changed irrevocably when I became a dad. Does this resonate? Parenthood often reframes everything.
Raised in a Protestant family (my parents are devout, and I was baptized), I held a belief in something beyond this life. That faith once made death feel unthreatening. But 13 years ago, around my oldest son Luc's birth, that changed. His premature arrival shook me at first, with worries focused on his health and early milestones.
Once he stabilized and we settled into parenthood's rhythms, deeper concerns emerged—the everyday anxieties all new parents face. That's when it hit me: I couldn't die yet. My boys needed me.
Life doesn't offer guarantees, but this realization reshaped how I view death and goodbyes. What if something happened to me, my partner Frank, or worst of all, both? We can't avoid the thought, but we must prepare.
That's why my partner and I discuss it regularly. Organization brings peace—funeral insurance or not. Key questions: burial or cremation? Favorite music?
These talks spark the deepest connections, without heaviness, especially when everyone's healthy. Discussing death openly reveals life's essence: what truly matters, personalized for each of us.
For me, it's about open communication and shared wishes. When my mother passed, my dad and four siblings scrambled. We knew only basics—like her wish for burial. Guessing the rest was tough amid grief.
We honored her loves: white flowers (her favorite color), Susan Boyle's music, simple and neat—no fuss. But her unspoken details left gaps.
With young children, clear plans ease the burden—insurance optional. Jot it down: a simple note listing wishes helps loved ones.
Like Mom, I prefer understated: room for tears, smiles, memories, even laughter. White flowers, yes. Music? Within Temptation's 'Mother Earth'—my top pick, played at my wedding and farewell. Burial or cremation? Still undecided.
[button color="grey" size="" type="square_outlined" target="" link="https://www.mamsatwork.nl/brood-op-the-plank/"]#mawad[/button]
