Dear Vanessa,
I’ve always felt uneasy discussing end-of-life plans with my family. It feels morbid and unnatural. But as my parents age, I’m wondering if avoiding the conversation might do more harm than good. Why is it so important, and how do we even begin?
Michelle
Dear Michelle,
Thank you for your thoughtful question, one that resonates deeply with me. I grew up in the Philippines, where talking about death was often avoided or delayed. I have never had a full conversation about end-of-life plans with my own family. And when I’ve tried, the topic was quickly brushed aside. For years, I equated silence with
respect. I believed that shielding our loved ones from the discomfort of death talk was a form of love.
But life, and especially my work in caregiving, has taught me otherwise. Working closely with families through some of their most fragile moments, I’ve seen what happens when end-of-life wishes are left unspoken. The silence can become a breeding ground for confusion, conflict, and even guilt. Decisions fall on shoulders unprepared to carry them. Children argue. And instead of peace, there’s pain, often compounded by regret.
End-of-life discussions aren’t just medical or legal matters. They’re deeply human ones.
One of the most empowering tools for this is an Advance Directive, a written document that outlines our preferences for medical care in case we’re unable to speak for ourselves. It can include decisions about life-sustaining treatments and name a healthcare proxy to carry out our wishes.
Hospice, when introduced early, does more than manage symptoms. It supports meaningful moments. It helps families prepare, talk, grieve, and celebrate the life of the person they love. In my own experience, hospice teams have been some of the most compassionate professionals I’ve worked with.
What I’ve also learned is this: talking about death doesn’t bring it sooner. But not talking about it robs us of the chance to shape how we live until our final breath.
So where do we begin?
Start small. Share your own thoughts, fears, or even stories of others. You don’t have to cover everything in one sitting. And remember, this is not about giving up. It’s about showing up, fully, for ourselves and each other.
Truth be told, I’m still on that path myself. Despite all I’ve seen and learned, I’ve yet to fully sit down with my own family and talk about the end, the kind of ending I would want, and the kind I hope to honor for them. It’s uncomfortable. It’s tender. But I now know that avoiding it doesn’t protect us—it only delays the love, healing, and preparation that could be shared now, while we still have time.
Warmly, Vanessa
