Last year my 92-year-old grandmother, April, wrote a letter to The Times of London:
“Sir, Why do we have to announce, in death notices, that all our loved ones have died ‘peacefully’? Why can’t we be a little more realistic and honest? Why not die gratefully, reluctantly, joyfully, dreamily, gently, lingeringly, longingly, lovingly, defiantly, furiously, humorously, enigmatically, cheerfully, jauntily, hopefully, or bravely? At least more meaningfully.”
April – a former actress turned author, with a nipped-in waist and dark hair who, to this day, remains upbeat and glamorous – has seen a fair amount of death. She survived World War II in England, feeling a pang of guilt as Jews like her were murdered in Europe. More recently, her friends and loved ones have started to pass away. They include…
