The Bureaucracy of Civilized Death

When I found Mom Monday morning it was obvious to me that she was gone. Nevertheless, I called 911 and not the regular police line. That was apparently the correct thing to do. Within minutes two EMTs and two police officers showed up. The EMTs went in to check on Mom while the officers asked about time of death/discovery and whether or not she had a DNR on file. The officers also made it politely clear that they were there for the duration.

I could not find Mom's living will or the official Do Not Resuscitate form (which we had not yet posted on the refrigerator per doctor's suggestion because, really, who expected it would happen so soon?) but after a couple of minutes the EMTs came out and said it wouldn't be necessary right now because there was nothing they could do for her anyway although I would probably need it soon or the Medical Examiner might refuse to release her to the cremation society. Everybody wanted to see a photo ID of Mom, her Social Security number and some other vital statistics like birthday, medications and such.

I called the cremation society and gave them Mom's member/contract number which she always kept in her wallet. They said their people would arrive in about forty-five minutes. My brother came home and the police asked him a couple of questions and warned him not to touch anything before letting him see Mom. The EMTs had already moved her to the floor.

The grief counselor arrived and the EMTs left. It was well choreographed. The police stood around. The grief counselor had a checklist of things we needed to remember to do such as canceling Mom's health insurance and Social Security. The Medical Examiner called the police and told them it was O.K. to release the body after which they became noticeably friendlier. Not that they were unfriendly, but they relaxed a bit after the call. Apparently, because of Mom's age, the ME decided our lack of paperwork was not a hindrance. Right after that my brother found the living will and DNR (right where they were supposed to be) but nobody was interested any more.

Two gentlemen in suitably somber attire arrived from the cremation society and we were advised to wait outside while they put Mom on the gurney (because, they did not say, the turn from her room into the hallway was too narrow for the gurney to fit into her room and they didn't want us to see them manhandling her onto it in the hall. That was fine with us).

After that we were allowed back in to say our final goodbyes to her there on the gurney before they wheeled her down the driveway and into their station wagon. The grief counselor gave us her card and left. The police gave us their cards and left.

The cat came out from wherever she'd been hiding and she and my brother and I just stood in the driveway under the warm sunlight and fluffy clouds for a while. The system had been so efficient there didn't seem to be anything else for us to do just then.