Collective Relationship with Death?

As a Speech-Language Pathologist, I have worked intimately with patients in their most vulnerable stages—many nearing the end of life—I am continually struck by how deeply uncomfortable our culture is with death. I have witnessed the physical, emotional, and spiritual consequences of this discomfort. From hospital rooms to hospice bedsides, I have seen the pain—not just of dying, but of resisting death at all costs. Why are we, collectively, so afraid to die?

Why do we treat the natural process of dying as a medical failure instead of a spiritual completion?

Why do we, as loved ones and clinicians, so often push for “everything to be done,” even when a patient’s body is clearly whispering: please no more!? Why do oncologists recommend palliative brain radiation for someone who has stage 5 lung cancer with metastatic spreading of tumor into brain?? Profiting off of incurable sick patients causing them to deteriorate further away from death with dignity, is a true form of evil.

The Cultural Crisis of Clinging

In our Western, industrialized society, we’ve cultivated a mythology around eternal youth, endless productivity, and medical heroism. Death is often framed as the enemy—a thief to outwit, a failure to fend off, something to "battle" until the bitter end. This narrative teaches us that to die is to give up, and to surrender is to fail.

But the truth is: our bodies are wise.

They know when it's time to let go. They speak through fatigue, breathlessness, and silence. And yet, we override that wisdom with intubations, resuscitations, and interventions that often rob the final moments of dignity, clarity, and peace.

The SLP at the Threshold

As a clinician trained in evaluating communication, cognition, and swallowing, I often meet patients in those twilight days—when the words have quieted, the appetite is gone, and the breath is shallow. Families ask if their loved one is “giving up,” when what I see is the body doing exactly what it is designed to do: transition.

I’ve come to believe that death is not the opposite of life—it is part of it. Much like birth, it is a sacred passage. The final exhale is not defeat; it is release. The body, having loved, fought, built, nourished, spoken, and survived—has earned its rest.

Reframing the Narrative: Death as Surrender, Not Failure

We often tell the dying, “You have to fight.”
But what if we said, “You have fought enough.”
What if we gave permission to let go, rather than demand one more round of suffering?

This shift in language and mindset could radically transform how we support the dying—and how we heal, as those left behind.

Death is not doom and gloom. It just is. A sacred cycle. An inevitable return. Light becomes dark, dark becomes light. As within, so without. As above, so below.

The Peace Found in Letting Go

There is indescribable beauty in watching someone pass peacefully. No machines. No alarms. Just breath... softening. The nervous system relaxing. The tension releasing. The soul, perhaps, ascending.

In those moments, I’ve seen what true surrender looks like. It’s not weakness. It’s the bravest, most human thing we do. It is the ultimate exhale, the final affirmation of, “I am ready.”

A Call for Compassionate Presence

As clinicians, as families, as humans—we need to re-learn how to sit with death, rather than run from it. To normalize conversations about end-of-life choices. To empower patients with options for comfort-focused care. And to embrace death not as a failure, but as an integral part of living fully.

Because when we stop fearing death, we begin to truly honor life.