Wow. I must admit I’ve given no thought to it personally, I almost think it’s more important to the loved ones you leave behind. My dad died at home, on a bed made up on the couch, while my aunts held his hands and sung his favorite hymns to him while the rest of us looked on.

My mom died in the hospital, under the care of Hospice, in the middle of the night and alone. My sister & I have been wracked with guilt over it for 15 years. She had 6 kids (and did the bulk of the parenting) and deserved better.

Being unmarried with no kids of my own, it doesn’t really matter to me. I just hope it’s quick, like a stroke or heart attack, and not from a lingering illness like both my parents cancers.

My friends and I talk frequently about this topic. I live in an Over 55 community plus I coordinate the memorial services. I lost a friend Sunday who was in an adult family care home via Hospice. Several people have chosen to die at home with caregiving done by family members with hospice support.
My husband died at home. We had Hospice but the majority of care fell to me. I regard it as a traumatic experience. My Mother died at home with round the clock care which was much easier on me. My Mother in law died in a nursing home.
My preference would be to die at home with home care so all of the care wasn’t done by family.

Yes, I've thought about it, and the corona virus has me updating my advanced directives and putting the papers together that my survivors would need.

Re: place. A lot depends on what I'd be dying from. A blanket wish to "die at home" is problematic if you're dying from something like Alzheimer's or Parkinson's or ALS that can take years to kill you. That's a horrible burden on the family, especially if there are children in the home. And the physical demands of such a task are tough on anybody, but certainly especially on older people.

My Dad died in the ICU at the local veteran's hospital after a brief stay, and we couldn't have had a better experience anywhere. The nurses were so, so fantastic...warm and helpful and empathetic. His wife, kids, and brother and sister were with him, and we had a chance to say goodbye.

My Mom died in the nursing home where she'd lived for six years. One aide switched shifts so she could be there with Mom. Again, the staff was wonderful; Mom's death was their loss, too. I will always remember with great warmth and gratitude the aide who cracked the window open. It was her custom to do that when someone died; she believed it "let their souls go."

Maybe it doesn't matter so much "where" as how and with whom. Personally, I don't expect my sister or nephews and nieces to provide 24/7 care, especially for years. I'm rather assuming I'll die in a nursing home if a quicker disease doesn't get me first.

Ideally I would like a Viking death, on a raft set out to sea and set on fire with flaming arrows. Perhaps with a bottle of wine. But that's unlikely to happen. What ever does happen, I would prefer it not be in any sort of clinical setting. A a peaceful outdoor natural environment would be nice.

My father died at home, and my husband and I traveled to Western Nebraska to be with him and help my mother. He was a radiologist, so knew the medical community. His oncologist visited him a few days before he died (of a brain tumor) and Dad asked what would happen if he quit taking the steroids that were keeping the swelling down. The doc said if he quit, in a few days he would die. Dad said he was afraid he wouldn't know when to quit. The doc said "You'll know." And he did; after the last of the grandkids had visited, he said "Well, that's the last of them." The next day he quit the steroids and a few days later, on 9/9/'99, at 12:09am, he died, with my mother and one of my brothers and me at his side. It was peaceful. It was beautiful.

One year later my husband was diagnosed with colon cancer, and two years after that, he died, also at home, also by choice, and also with the help of Hospice. The Hospice nurse, a close friend, and I were at his side, and the most remarkable thing is that I felt his soul, or spirit, just waft out of the room, leaving his poor body behind. I had planned a ritual for when the time came, and soon the women began to arrive. We bathed his body and wrapped him in unbleached muslin, with rose petals on his chest. After a time, we called the mortician and then he was gone, out through the garden for the last time. It was peaceful, and it was beautiful.

Nine years later, my mother died, also at home. I made it home in time to be with her at the end, but she had had a massive stroke and was not conscious, so I didn't get to say good-bye in the way I had hoped. For her death the whole family was there. She struggled at the end, and couldn't breathe, but we said "It's ok Mom, you can do this. We are all going to be ok. We love you." And soon the struggle was over and she too was gone. And in the end, it was peaceful. It was beautiful.

Last year the eldest of my younger brothers fought hard against acute leukemia, and I spent a lot of time with him, in the hospital in Denver. His wife was there the whole time and their son as well. Todd and I had many conversations about life and death and the meaning of it all. He, too, wished to die at home and was concerned that he would miss his window of opportunity to travel back home. He was a physician, he knew what was likely coming even as he chose to try every treatment available. When the last one failed, they went home. They made a plan (my sister-in-law is a nurse) and executed it well. In one month, Hospice was called and we all gathered to be with him and hold vigil, at home. When he died two days later, he just slipped out of the room, with all of us there, and he was gone. It was peaceful. It was beautiful.

Having attended four deaths now, I am in awe of the process. This final transition is magnificent. There is no other word that captures, for me, the power and beauty of death. When my time comes, I want to die at home. I want to be ready, I hope I will be at peace. I hope my loved ones will do for me what I have done for others, in bathing my body, blessing my spirit, sending me off with love. For time out of mind, women have attended to the dead. I think it is an important ritual we do, a way of saying good-bye with love and dignity.

So these are my experiences and my wishes. I hope everyone gets the kind of death they most wish for.

I haven't given it a lot of thought, but I imagine circumstances will dictate. A heart attack or stroke, at home. Something lingering, in a hospital or hospice. I'd much prefer to go quickly. And as introverted as I am, I'm not sure but what I'd rather die in private. Besides, I worry most about the pain it will cause my son; it might be easier for him if he weren't there.

A good post, and I'm delighted there will be more on this subject.

About 10 of us have a bi-monthly salon that meets to discuss these issues and things aging related. And to build the close community that will see each of us out when it's time.

My wish, though a distant one, is to win a big lottery so that I can build our Co-Housing community, and then die peacefully there, in our own hospice unit. I keep that as my best dream, but realize that it is only a remote possibility. I've done a fair amount of research though, and have a plan in place jic the lottery win happens! :)

Four and a half years ago, my wife died in a hospice unit of a hospital in Albuquerque. If I can't have my Best Dream, I'll happily take that, or a similar one. It was peaceful and beautiful.

Thanks for sharing your experiences, everyone.

I agree with Julie B. My father hired home health aides for his last days when he needed help to bathe, dress, and use the bathroom. They stayed up with him at night so we could sleep without worry. When Dad climbed into in his armchair to prepare for Medical Aid in Dying, the aide stayed until the attending doctor arrived, and then left the family for our last hour together. I'd choose the same.
Home health aides allowed us to share my Dad's last days without worry and gave Dad the dignity he wished for.

Of course , I'd like to die at home or in nature. But as a single person without family, I am investigating both Aging in Place, and assisted living places. Hoping to avoid the latter. And really, I think it's such an intense experience, place, and attending people really may not matter all that much. I trust it will go well.

Check our The 5 Wishes program.

I'll decide once I'm near death.

I think it’s very important to discuss all this and not hide from death or deny it.

Right off the bat, I’d like to die at home, but not if I require 24/7 care. Then put me in a hospice place where the care would be exceptional, hopefully.

I’m widowed with no children and close friends who are older than myself, so I imagine I will have a lonely death wherever I am. But that’s just the way it is.

I only wish we had the legal right in this country to chose our own time to die when we are ready and to be able to put that in our living will.
I look forward to more posts on this subject.

Both my parents died at home during the 1990s -- mostly because it would not have occurred to either of them to do anything but soldier on until they dropped. My father had a heart attack in the bathtub. I was holding my mother's hand when she died. She had a massive stroke and was placed on her bed by an attentive neighbor as she knew that was Mother's wish -- I got there ASAP and sat with her for about 2 days.

My friends were surprised to learn they had died at home -- it was still a time of expected hospital deaths I think.

I would hope to die at home, with hospice help for my caring partner if possible. But who knows, she could go first, though that's not my picture as I'm a little older. But what will be will be.

My mother died in a nursing home, having had dementia for many years and, at the end, 20 days in a coma. During those last days lots of family members visited for several hours every day. We reminisced aloud in hopes she could hear us. Although we never saw a sign that she did, it was comforting to all of us to talk about happy times in her presence.

My father died just a few weeks later. He hung on long enough to celebrate his 90th birthday, then one week after his party, he joined my mother. He had been living at home, but on the night of his death was in the hospital being treated for congestive heart failure. None of us - family or hospital staff - realized he was so near death and we weren't present when he died.

My brother was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer just 2 years later at age 47. He was much too young to die and fought the disease with every available treatment, including some that were clearly bogus. He remained in denial to the last. He was in the hospital by choice, believing irrationally that he was healing. He was actually in a hospice unit, but we (family and hospital staff) knew better than to mention the word hospice in his presence. When I visited him on the last evening of his life, he asked me to write his goals for the future on the white board in his room. He had been experiencing periods of an altered state of consciousness which he interpreted as supernatural healing. He died at midnight. There was no family present, but there was a wonderfully kind hospice worker with him that night, masquerading as an Aide, keeping him company and avoiding any mention of death.

Just last year a cousin died pancreatic cancer. He chose to die at home, with hospice care. But hospice alone wasn't enough. He and his wife couldn't afford 24/7 caregiving. His hour-to-hour care overwhelmed his wife. He was in pain from the cancer and uncomfortable in his bed, being much too large to be re-positioned by his wife. Even the part-time caregiver couldn't move him without help. I visited often to offer moral support to his wife, but couldn't offer much in the way of direct care to him. It was a very stressful situation. On his last day he was screaming with pain and when the hospice nurse arrived, she administered a dose of morphine that quieted him. He died a few hours later.

So the upshot of all this is, I don't want to die at home unless I'm sure there will be adequate care so that i won't be a burden to my loved ones and won't be in pain.

Sorry for this downer of a post. Despite all this, I don't find this conversation at all morbid. These things need to be shared openly and honestly. Many of us will be able to choose where we die and we need to understand the realities.