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September 4, 2015

A day in the country

When Australian Broadcast Corporation invited contributions to their Death and Dying ABC Open project, I submitted the following. But it has not appeared on the website. Is this a case of censorship by our national broadcaster? I guess we’ll never know since they are not responding to my emails.
Dr. Johannes Klabbers


On a beautiful day in May I drive out of town to meet up with Exit members, Andrew*, 88, and Beverley*, 80. They requested a visit. I’m driving across the bridge when Andrew calls : “We’ll take you out for lunch!”

The venue is a winery/restaurant in a wonderful location overlooking the Bay. When I arrive, Andrew and Beverley are already seated and enjoying a glass of wine.
“Would you like a drink?” Andrew asks.
I don’t want to seem like a wowser or confess to being a recovering alcoholic.
“Thanks,” I say, “I probably shouldn’t. I have to drive back after lunch. But I’ll have a Coke!”
“Now I feel bad,” Beverley says, a little sadly, “drinking in front of you.”
I instantly warm to her. She is a splendid woman, wearing a bold, black and white striped top, her hair piled on top of her head in a bun, and her nails carefully painted.
“Don’t be silly!” I touch her arm. “You enjoy it!”

The great thing about Exit people is that no one minds talking about death. I can speak freely. They have the Exit handbook and when I mention something that’s in the handbook they say : “Ah yes, that’s in the handbook.”

“When the day comes, we will go together,” Beverley tells me. They both nod. Neither of them have any wish to live without the other.

“I’ve had a marvellous life,” Andrew muses, “but I’m useless now. I’m not contributing anything to the world. I’m just using up resources!”

Beverley admonishes him but I think it’s marvellous, such humility.
“But Andrew,” I say, “I’m sure you made a contribution to the world in the past.”
“Well I tried to!” he laughs.
“Everyone is entitled to some rest and relaxation in their latter years!” I say.
He nods and smiles, but I am not convinced he believes me.

They would like to go to Switzerland. They are members of Dignitas and they have friends there.
“But we’re not terminally ill,” Andrew says. He seems disappointed.
“Except that life is a terminal illness!” Beverley retorts.
It’s an old joke but it never fails. We all laugh heartily.

They don’t really like the idea of being found by their children, Beverley tells me.
“It would be distressing for them.”
They have talked with their daughter about their desire to be in a position to end their lives when the time comes. She agrees it’s their choice, but it makes her sad. “We often end up crying together when we talk about it,” Beverley says.
I say : “Well no one is denying that death is a sad business. And your children will miss you, just like you miss your mother.”
“Oh but I didn’t like my mother!” Beverley exclaims. “She wouldn’t let me go to university.”
She pauses for a swig on her glass.
“And she wouldn’t let me read! My grandmother bought me a children’s encyclopaedia – and my mother took it from me and told me to go and play outside!”

“Anyway you’re all doing some of your grieving now instead of afterwards,” I say, trying to get back on track. “And you’re still here to support them.”
Beverley’s face lights up.
“You’re right,” she says, with a smile.

Beverley tells me they spent two years sailing around the Mediterranean in the seventies. A few years ago they set out for Tasmania in their boat but they had to turn back. It was too choppy and they didn’t feel confident.
“We realised we couldn’t do it anymore,” Beverley says wistfully.
When we part ways, Andrew and I shake hands warmly. I give Beverley a big hug and say : “You let me know if there is anything else I can do.”
“Thank you,” she says. “Thank you so much for coming. Any time you want to visit, you’re always welcome.”

I take the ferry to Sorrento. The Bay is calm and it was the warmest May day for ten years.

Almost a year later Andrew and Beverley end their lives in a country motel.

I miss them but I’m happy. They left this earth together on their own terms and at a time of their choosing.


* I have permission to use Andrew and Beverly’s real names.