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       # 2021-11-21 - Get Out Of Jail Free Card by Paul Chefurka
       
       Excerpt from Paul Chefurka [1] interview hosted by Michael Dowd [2].
       
       Being able to accept impermanence really didn't come home to me until
       my wife died.  She had ovarian cancer and opted for a medically
       assisted death.
       
       She and I met first 45 years ago.  We had been good friends for a
       decade and we had fallen out of contact for 30 years, and then
       reconnected.  She came to Ottawa to live with me and we spent 7 years
       together.  It was a very strong relationship.
       
       She was also an artist, a fractal artist, a digital artist.  She did
       mind-boggling, beautiful work.  She was totally dedicated to it.  For
       the 7 years we were together she worked at her art and I brought home
       the food, cooked it, and served it to her.  She basically worked 16
       hours a day in front of her computer for 7 years.  She left a library
       of 3,000 pieces of art behind that is unbelievable.
       
       It's on Facebook [3].  Her page is still up.  She called herself
       Visionary Light.  All of her work is there.
       
       I remember coming home one night after work.  She was sitting at her
       computer like usual.  She turned around, smiled at me, and said "Sit
       down, I have something important to talk with you about."
       
       "Okay," I said.
       
       She said "It's what we thought.  It's ovarian cancer."
       
       And I said "Okay, well, why are you smiling?"
       
       She said "Well, it's my get out of jail free card.  I get to go home!"
       
       She was really pretty thrilled about it.  She worked for another
       month or so on her art.  I remember her setting down her mouse and
       her tablet at one point.  She pushed away from the desk.  She turned
       around and she said "That's it, I have finished.  I've done it all.
       I've done everything I want to do."
       
       So she was able to finish that up.  She was able to say wholesome
       goodbyes to all of her friends.  We got arrangements made with the
       hospital so that they would send over an anesthesiologist to do the
       procedure.  We arranged for a final meal for her from a local
       restaurant.  She had one last dinner: sauteed scallops and crème
       brûlée and a glass of Patrón tequila to wash it down.  And then
       the process happened.  It was very quiet, very calm.  It was graceful
       and dignified.  If there can be such a thing as a good death, that
       was one of the best I could imagine.  She felt that the doctor was
       very compassionate.  The nurse was attentive and stayed in the
       background.  We made sure that she was absolutely sure that she
       wanted to go through with it.  There was no question.  You could hear
       it in her voice.  I was sitting there with her and our last words
       were "I love you."  She just closed her eyes and went away.
       
       That event really informed my understanding of death, what death is
       about.  What endings are about.  It lost a lot of its terror for me.
       Death is no longer a terrible thing.  It's something that happens in
       the course of life.  For me it's kind of paradoxical.  It seems that
       I am okay with impermanence.  I am okay with it ending.  The question
       is whether I am a little too okay with it.
       
       She left a huge mark, from that point of view, on my life.
       
       [1]
 (HTM) Interview with Paul Chefurka
       
       [2]
 (HTM) Michael Dowd on postdoom.com
       
       [3]
 (HTM) Visionary Light digital fractal art
       
       tags: collapse,notes,podcast
       
       # Tags
       
 (DIR) collapse
 (DIR) notes
 (DIR) podcast