On Living

Another library sale find, Kerry Egan's ON LIVING (2016), a small book, was a perfect "in-between" kinda read. Half memoir, half meditation on life and death, she gives you much to think about, as she tells of her own experience with an extended drug-induced psychosis following a botched Caesarian. After that she trained as a chaplain and worked in hospitals and hospices. And that's the subject of this book. What she found perhaps most surprising in this role was the absence of beliefs and religion in talks with dying patients. Instead -

"Mostly they talk about their families, their mothers and fathers, their sons and daughters. They talk about the love they felt and the love they gave. Often they talk about the love they didn't receive show more or the love they didn't know how to offer ..."

Reading this, I remembered my dad's funeral, and his priest gathering my siblings and me together and telling us how much Dad had said he loved us all and his regret that he hadn't known how to tell us this himself. And how I wept.

And some good advice -

"If you want to apologize, then apologize now. If you want to tell someone you're proud of them, say it right now. If you want to export your love, call up and say, 'I love you.' If you want to ask for forgiveness, do it this second, while there is still time ... Don't hold back."

What's the point of ON LIVING? Maybe the last chapter heading is a clue: "it's a beautiful life and then you leave it." Point taken. This us a good book from a good writer. Very highly recommended.

- Tim Bazzett, author of the memoir, BOOKLOVER show less

"It's a beautiful life and then you leave it."

"Promise yourself [ . . . ] that you'll have a great life, no matter what happens."

The dying, writes Kerry Egan, a hospice chaplain, are not different from you or me. They are just doing something before we do. In On Living, Egan shares many stories of these patients. Some of the stories concern burdensome secrets which the dying wish to be finally relieved of. Other stories challenge both the author's and the reader's understanding of what is "real" or "not real". Most point to the idea that life needs to be lived flexibly, "in the gray".

Some of Egan's observations and anecdotes are more powerful than others, but the one I was most affected by concerned a woman in her forties, a mother with show more leukaemia, who prayed and prayed to get better so she could mother her children again. She only got sicker and sicker, and the pain grew worse and worse. Then "Everything fell away," she said, and she understood, finally, that dying IS the answer: "Dying will take away the pain. It's the only way the pain is going to end, and the only way that my kids won't see me suffer anymore. You see what I mean? The only way the suffering is going to end is me dying. And I can teach my children how to die without fear. That's what they'll learn from me. That's how I'll be their mother." No, the dying may not be different from us, but sometimes there is something they can show us: a kind of grace and acceptance. I have seen this in my own life, and it was a lovely thing to find it so beautifully articulated in this book.

Writer, speaker, and former director of palliative care for a major hospital network in Canada, Stephen Jenkinson would agree with this dying mother. Among the ideas he would add is that dying is part of our contract with life. It is one of the things life asks of us. Some readers may find Jenkinson's book Die Wise and the NFB (of Canada) film about him, Grief Walker, to be meaningful companion pieces to Egan's simple, accessible text.

Throughout her book, Egan unfolds some details about her own dramatic life-changing event, experienced as she was bringing her first child into the world. No, it was not a "near-death" experience, but it sensitized her to suffering and loss and laid the foundation for her to pursue work as a chaplain.

The potential "non-religious" reader should be assured that while there are religious references in the book from time to time, one need not be Christian or "a believer" per se to appreciate this work. It is also relatively (and mercifully) free of exhortations and cliches a la Chicken Soup for the Soul. show less

A powerful nonfiction meditation on life written by a hospice chaplain. I didn't need to agree with every single thing the author said to enjoy this one. I loved how she gave glimpses into the lives of some of her patients, from a woman who kept her child when everyone told her to give it up, to her own meditation on her postpartum struggle, there was a lot to think about.

"The things you lose do shape who you become."

I am so glad I listened to this book. This is a memoir from a hospice chaplain., but one does not need to be a "believer" in any particular faith tradition or at all to appreciate the author's experiences with those that are facing death. It was enlightening, informative, thought-provoking, funny, beautifully rendered and genuine. The author wove in her own story of hardship which she returns to throughout the book so that the reader is called to think about circumstances in the lives of her dying patients along with similar circumstances in life. Kerry Egan reads the book herself which adds to the authenticity. Highly recommend.

A wonderful, well thought out book about learning to live from the dying. Kerry Egan is a thoughtful person and a good storyteller. I really enjoyed curling up with this book and pondering its helpful sentiments. Nice short pieces, connected, but allowing for stopping and considering. I think this would make a great book club book.

A born storyteller, Kerry Egan allows us a glimpse into the little-known world, where ordinary people face death with wit, humor, sadness, and regret. Egan reveals that the job of a chaplain is mostly to listen to them as they work out how to set things right with those they love, and find meaning in their lives.

Author reads it, and I really liked her voice and presentation. Many of her stories and observations were thought provoking and touching. Probably should have know that a book by a chaplain would be too religious/spiritual for my taste :), but having experienced many deaths of loved ones I was curious about this book.